


Wanna Kill My Wife?

by Aerstes



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Murder plotting, Slow Burn, Villaneve, WIP, bill is still alive in this bc gd it he was the best, but like shes still got that bloodlust bc who is she without it, in which villanelle marries anna and never becomes villanelle, murder wives!, quite literally bc their both wives and both wanna murder their spouses, that lit bonnie and clyde vibe, the strangers on a train au no one asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-05-07 08:20:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19205527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerstes/pseuds/Aerstes
Summary: If Anna had left her husband for Oksana and she had never become Villanelle, well, she would have always found a way to unleash that darkness within her, wouldn't she? Or, a Stranger's on a Train AU written by someone who has neither read nor seen the story, but knows it definitely should be more gay than it is nonetheless.





	1. Chapter 1

Eve’s coffee was too hot. But she really needed caffeine. 

 

“Fuck. OW!” she grumbled to herself as the subway lurched, making the boiling liquid slosh against her lips as she tried to take a tentative sip. 

 

Fuck this Monday. Fuck her new boss for relocating her to an office that was a half hour subway ride from the station closest to her house. Fuck everything. 

 

Eve took out her folder of transfer paperwork to browse through as the people who got on at the last stop filtered their way into the open seats. Yes, miraculously, there were open seats on a London subway. Because no one in their right mind would be up at 6:30 in the morning. But Eve was. Because of her great new fucking job. Doing what exactly? Oh yeah, transferring actual mountains of cold case files from paper to digital. 

 

And before you get too excited at the idea of “cold case” stuff, don’t. Most of it was just drunk driver hit and runs. There was almost no chance, disappointingly, that Eve would stumble across some mystery serial killer and accidentally find the overlooked piece of evidence to solve the case. And even if she  _ did _ , according to Frank the Super Douche, she “Under no circumstances should try and turn this into her own personal crime fighting adventure. This was simply transferring files. So don’t even think about it.”

 

Douche. 

 

Eve was pulled from her internal moping by a loud passenger opposite her seat on the subway. She looked up to see a young blonde woman yelling into her phone in what she assumed was Russian. She tilted her head as she watched her berate whoever was on the other line, torn between being annoyed at the disturbance and wishing she understood Russian so she could eavesdrop. If you’re going to make everyone listen to your drama, at least make it entertaining. 

 

The girl spat what Eve could only guess was the Russian equivalent of “fuck you” into her phone before hanging up, and looked up, catching Eve staring at her. Eve looked away quickly, focusing way too attentively on her paperwork. 

 

She heard the woman clear her throat insistently. And then again, until Eve looked up at her. 

 

“Are you married?” she asked in perfect English. 

 

Eve nodded dumbly. 

 

“It’s the worst, isn’t it?” the girl asked.

 

Eve chose not to reply to such a statement, but she couldn’t help but smile, if for no other reason than that she was amused by someone so young and attractive already being married, much less already frustrated with said marriage. It wasn’t a funny thought, really, it was actually sad. But Eve smiled nonetheless, for some reason. 

 

*

 

After a long first day of eye strain and shit coffee, Eve stumbled into her home, throwing her bag unceremoniously onto the floor and kicking off her shoes into random directions. She could smell something delicious cooking in the kitchen. When she made her way to the kitchen island, there was a glass of red wine waiting for her.

 

“Ugh, thank God for you,” she said. 

 

Her husband turned away from the stovetop with a smile on his face. 

 

“There she is. Good first day?” 

 

“Don’t be an ass. You know it sucked.”

 

“I don’t know any such thing. I was hoping you’d be pleasantly surprised at how interesting all the old cases you’re filing are.” 

 

“Nope. Not at all.” 

 

Niko frowned playfully at her. 

 

“Did you even try to make friends?”

 

“Friends with who? The copy machine? The janitor that gets pissy with me whenever I leave the coffee pot on?” 

 

“Well how long did you leave the coffee pot on for?”

 

“People want their coffee  _ hot _ , Niko!” 

 

“Okay, okay. Forget I asked. Here,” he topped off her wine, which she had already nearly drained. “At least it’s only temporary, right?”

 

“Yep. Once everything is converted to digital I can go back to my old department. Which should be in about...fifty thousand years.”

 

Niko turned back to the stove. 

 

“Chin up, love. Here, try this,” he said, and held a spoon of sauce for her to taste. 

 

“Oh my god, did you get those weird purple tomatoes from the farmer’s market?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“You’re amazing.”

 

Niko smiled.

 

“I try.” 

 

*

 

They laid in bed that night, Niko reading a book, Eve scrolling numbly through social media. She wasn’t quite tired yet. Should they have sex? Would this be a good time for that?

 

“Well, that’s a good place in the story to stop. Goodnight, darling,” Niko said, and put his book down, gave Eve a kiss on the cheek, and turned off his lamp, turning away from her to drift off to sleep.

 

_ Guess not _ , Eve thought. 

 

*

 

Another day, another early as shit subway ride to the office. Eve had asked Bill to send her some new music to listen to to keep herself sane, and she settled into her seat as some sort of Irish band that attempted to mix folk music and synth harassed her ears. 

 

What a weirdo. 

 

Eve closed her eyes, unable to keep them open, and hoped she wouldn’t miss her stop as she drifted off into a light nap. After an indiscernible amount of time had passed, she felt someone nudge her shoulder, likely on accident, as they sat down in the seat next to her. Eve opened a reluctant eye to glance at her newfound seat mate, only to see a familiar face that smiled at her, eyes wide and alert despite the early hour.

 

The Russian woman from the day before waved at her, not trying to say anything because she could tell Eve was listening to music. But the music sucked at the blonde was somehow interesting to Eve, so she pulled out her earphones. 

 

“Good morning,” she said in her oddly entrancing Russian accent. 

 

“Yeah, um. Same to you,” Eve said with an attempted smile, moving her eyes from the girl’s bright, cat like eyes, to her defined cheek bones and full lips. She didn’t know if she was more attracted to her odd beauty or jealous of it. 

 

Wait, why would she be attracted to her? Morning Eve was weird.

 

“It’s strange. I’m on the same subway schedule every morning, and have not seen you until this week,” the girl said, trying as hard as she could to strike up a conversation.

 

“New job,” Eve said simply, not physically capable of talking much this early in the morning. 

 

“Oh yeah? Where do you work?”

 

“MI5.”

 

“Oh, a detective?” the girl said with piqued interest. 

 

Eve chuckled.

 

“I wish. Nope, just a grunt. Benefits are good, though. You?” 

 

The blonde rolled her eyes. 

 

“Call center.  _ So _ boring. All I do is try to talk paranoid stay at home moms into buying home security systems.”

 

“Oh yeah? Sell a lot?”

 

“Actually, yeah, it’s really easy to convince people who watch crime dramas all day that someone is gonna break into their house and murder their children in front of them.”

 

Eve laughed, disarmed by her dark humor.

 

“I, uh, I’m Eve,” she said, offering a hand to the girl.

 

“Oksana,” she replied, shaking Eve’s hand with a gentle yet firm grip. 

 

“Oksana? I like that.”

 

“Really? I’ve never been that fond of it. You can have it if you want.” 

 

Eve laughed again, loudly enough that some of the other passengers glanced her way.

 

“That doesn’t even make any sense.”

 

“No,” Oksana conceded, “It doesn’t. I just wanted to hear you laugh again. It’s nice.” 

 

Eve tried to hide an unexpected blush behind her coffee cup, but she had a funny feeling that Oksana noticed it nonetheless. 

 

*

 

Eve could barely focus at work. Not that there was anything interesting to focus on, but still. She kept thinking about the girl from the subway. What was it about her that was so captivating? Was it just the fact that Eve had so few people to interact with right now besides her husband and the pissy janitor that she was just excited to have someone new to talk to? 

 

The work day went by faster than it had the day before. She listened to Bill’s weird music, and tried to put faces to the descriptions of murder victims. Like the girl who turned up in the Thames a week after being reported missing was described as having “full lips”. Did they look like Oksana’s? Did the co-ed who was struck by a car after a long night at the bar have eyes as blue as Oksana’s, or were they more dull, less lively? Did they change after she died? Did they lose something? 

 

“Just file the damn paperwork, you freak,” Eve scolded herself.

 

*

 

There was takeout on the counter when Eve got home, with a note saying  _ “Sorry, my love, emergency at work.” _

 

“What kind of emergency could a high school teacher possibly have?” Eve grumbled as she threw the container in the microwave and slumped into a kitchen chair, reaching for the unfinished wine bottle from the night before. 

 

This was intolerable. She needed people to talk to, dammit. At least on nights when Niko was off hanging out with his friends she couldn’t stand or working late, again, she had been coming home from working and talking with actual  _ people _ . Now she felt like a recluse, a shut in, or some other lonely, miserable thing. 

 

Eve pulled out her phone and made a call. 

 

_ “You’re alive! I thought you’d died under an avalanche of file boxes by now,”  _ Bill said from the other end of the phone.

 

“Please tell me something amusing. I’m dying of boredom over here.” 

 

_ “Well. Frank heated up some fish in the microwave today and we almost killed him.” _

 

“God, what a tool.”

 

_ “It’s okay, it gave him the trots. He was grunting and groaning about it all after lunch. Where’s Niko?” _

 

“Oh, you mean my husband? My better half, my soulmate?” Eve sighed. “No fucking clue.” 

 

*

 

Eve got up ten minutes before her alarm, wide awake. She used the extra time to put on some lipstick and her favorite mascara. Not that she was trying to impress anyone. She just wanted to feel...nice. She usually gave her sleeping husband a kiss on the cheek before leaving.

 

She skipped it this time. He never noticed anyhow.

 

Eve thrummed her fingers against her watch anxiously as she sat on the subway, trying not to watch everyone that got on at each stop, looking for a particular face. When it appeared, she willed herself to look at her phone, to look busy, and not desperate for a new friend. 

 

Oksana slid into the seat next to her, a frown on her face. 

 

_ You can speak first, Eve, that’s not weird. _

 

“Rough morning?”

 

“You could say that,” Oksana replied, checking her phone and then tossing it into her purse.

 

“Husband problems?” Eve asked, even though it probably would have been polite to not press the matter.

 

“ _ Wife _ problems, yes. Apparently I’m the worst person in the world for going out for a drink last night with some friends.”

 

Oh, she...oh. 

 

“How old are you? Mid twenties? I used to go out like two or three nights a week when I was your age.” 

 

“Well, Anna is older than I am. Like, physically she’s probably your age but mentally she’s basically ninety. She never wants to have any fun. And if I try to do anything without her she gets jealous. It’s like she wants my life to be over. She just wants to sit around the apartment all day, read books, watch tv, talk about work...blech.” 

 

“Well...I mean...that is what most married couples do for the most part.” 

 

“It’s not what we used to do! We used to be fun. When we first met, everything was so exciting. She made  _ me _ exciting.” 

 

“How long have you two been together?” 

 

“Since I was 17.”

 

Wait...what?

 

“And...how old was she when you met?” 

 

“35.”

 

Eve nearly spit out her coffee.

 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

 

Oksana smiled, seeming to reminisce on old memories. 

 

“Yeah...she was my English teacher. I sort of...broke up her marriage.” 

 

Eve blinked, completely unsure of how to respond. 

 

“Oh, don’t get all weird on me, Eve. It’s what she wanted. But after she left him for me, she got so much shit from her friends and family about it that she insisted we get married as soon as I turned 18. I guess she thought that getting married would make our relationship seem more legitimate. I thought it was because she loved me.” She paused, willing away some unseen emotions. “But now she just blames me for the whole thing. Acts like I ruined her life. As if I acted alone in the whole thing. As if she wasn’t the one who wanted it in the first place.”

 

“I...I’m sorry,” Eve replied. “Why don’t you leave her?” 

 

Oksana scoffed. 

 

“Because I want her to have to live in her ‘mistake’ and be miserable for it so she knows how I feel.” 

 

Eve sat quietly for a moment, thinking. Oksana’s story was almost too incredible to believe. But she did believe it, because of how much strain and hurt she could see on the young girl’s face when she spoke of it. It made her tremendously sad. 

 

“Oksana?”

 

“Yes, Eve?” 

 

“You’re too young and full of life to be stuck in a life that makes you miserable. Live a life that makes you happy. Please.” 

 

Oksana blinked, willing away some tears that brimmed above her lower lashes, threatening to give too much away that her stony expression tried to hide. 

 

“Okay,” she said simply, and looked forward, Eve doing the same, and they each took a sip of their coffee in synch. “You look nice today, by the way.” 

 

“Thank you,” Eve replied, subconsciously bringing her thumb to her painted lips for just a moment to wipe away a drip of coffee.

 

*

 

That night, Eve and Niko sat at the dinner table: Niko filling Eve in on his day at work, Eve not contributing much to the conversation because her work life was dull and torturous. She pushed her food around on her plate. She didn’t really like Shepherd’s pie, but she had never had the heart to tell Niko that. Though, he had never really asked. He had always just assumed it was her favorite. 

 

Besides, her thoughts were elsewhere. She kept thinking about Oksana. About her life. About her marriage. About the woman who was causing her so much anguish. How could anyone be with a woman like Oksana and be unhappy? It was perplexing to Eve. 

 

“Eve?” Niko asked, drawing her attention back to the present. 

 

“Hmm?”

 

“You okay?”

 

“Oh. Um. Yeah. Actually...I have a terrible headache. Would you mind getting me some aspirin?” she asked.

 

“Sure,” Niko said, getting up and heading to the bathroom cabinet. 

 

A light caught Eve’s attention. Niko had left his cell phone on the table, and he had a notification. 

 

**_Gemma_ **

_ What are you doing tomorrow? I miss you <3<3<3 _

 

It lit up again.

 

**_Gemma_ **

_ I’ve just had a wax. Smooth sailing, baby ;) _

 

Eve’s mind froze. Time seemed to stop. The walls of her reality shook like an earthquake, the already weak structure of it crumbling under the pressure, and she felt herself drowning in the rubble. 

 

Niko reappeared with two aspirin’s in his hand. 

 

“There we are. Sure you’re okay?” 

 

Eve painted on a smile. 

 

“Of course! Just a headache. Thank you, darling.”

 

Eve imagined a crack sounding off in her mind, like a lightning strike when you are standing right near its impact. And then there was only one clear thought in her mind: What now?

 

*

 

Eve slept in the bed next to NIko that night. What else was she supposed to do? She imagined that she was on pause. The explosive reaction was in there somewhere, waiting for her to let it rage. But for now, she tried to sleep.

 

*

 

Eve went to work the next morning, everything feeling normal about the day despite that inside she was hollow. Until today she had had a life, a purpose, something worth enduring the shit existence threw at her. Now it was all shattered, laying in razor sharp shards at her feet. She didn’t even really think about Oksana until she was suddenly sitting next to her on the subway. 

 

“Good morning, Eve,” she said brightly. 

 

“Mmhmm,” Eve said blankly, eyes focused on nothing in particular on the other side of the subway. Her coffee rested in her hands, untouched. 

 

Oksana’s face fell. 

 

“What’s wrong?” she asked. 

 

Eve licked her lips, still staring ahead.

 

“Fucker is cheating on me.” 

 

Oksana’s eyes widened.

 

“Jesus,” she said. “What are you going to do about it?’

 

“Uh. I don’t know. I haven’t figured it out yet,” Eve said, fingers thrumming against her coffee cup agitatedly. “But if I were going to lay out my options? I figure, start an affair of my own, divorce, or murder. Then of course I could just go on like I don’t know, pretend everything is fine. That’s the option I’m most afraid I’ll end up doing.”

 

Oksana’s face scrunched up in frustration, turning to look Eve head on.

 

“Screw that,” she spat. “I mean, Eve, come on.  _ Look _ at you. Who would cheat on you? You are, like, the woman someone  _ has _ the affair with. He must be awfully stupid, your husband, being able to come home to you every night and not thinking that it is a fucking privelege to do so.” 

 

Eve looked at Oksana curiously out of the corner of her eye, wondering why she was so oddly outspoken on the matter.

 

“I mean,” Oksana faltered, “that’s just what I think.” 

 

Eve couldn’t help but laugh a little. 

 

“Okay,” Eve said, then pushed past the urge to cry. “God, I never even saw this coming…”

 

“Hey, hey,” Oksana soothed, placing a hand on Eve’s forearm. “Don’t let that asshole make you miserable. Alright? Listen, when do you get off of work?” 

 

“Four, why?” Eve said, staring at the delicate fingers that gripped her arm.

 

“Don’t get on the subway when you come home. Stay at the station. I’ll meet you, we can grab a drink. Get your mind off of it. Okay?” 

 

“I...I don’t know…”

 

“Eve,” Oksana said in a soft plea, her hand leaving Eve’s forearm so she could lightly tap her under the chin with her index finger, urging Eve to look her in the eye. “What else are you gonna do? Sit at home while he’s off fucking someone else? Sit next to him on the couch and pretend he’s not a vile piece of scum? No. You’re coming out with me. Let him do what he wants to do for tonight. You can deal with him tomorrow.” 

 

Eve sighed. 

 

“Okay,” she said, suddenly resolute. “Yeah. You know what? Yeah. Here, do you want my number so you can text me when you’re on your way?” 

 

“No,” Oksana said insistently. “Our meeting was an accident. It makes it feel spontaneous. That would ruin it.” 

 

Why did that make Eve smile so wide? 

 

“Alright. I’ll see you there, then.” 

 

“See you there,” Oksana replied, her eyes looking Eve over for a second, before she cleared her throat and looked forward, as if catching herself from doing something she didn’t think she was supposed to do. 

 

*

 

4:05 and Eve was standing outside the entrance to the Tube, nervous. Was this weird? No. No, she had just made a new friend. There was nothing wrong with that. She needed all the friends she could get right now. Eve couldn’t remember what it was like to make new friends. At a certain age she had just figured that the ones she had were enough. But Oksana was so young, so exciting to Eve. It made her want to laugh at what an odd pair they must make. 

 

“Eve?” she heard her name called, and she spun around embarrassingly quickly to see Oksana crossing the street to approach her. “Hey.”

 

“Hi,” she replied, wondering why she was so nervous to see Oksana. 

 

“I know a good place two blocks down that’s great for getting drunk and forgetting about your problems.”

 

“Sounds perfect,” Eve said with an appreciative sigh, and turned to follow Oskana, who was already walking away from her towards the destination. She looked back at Eve, giggled at her, and reached back to her so she could keep up. Eve took her hand. 

 

It felt oddly natural.

 

Eve sunk into a small circular booth near the bar, the leather padding overstuffed and luxuriously comfortable for such a dive of a pub. Oksana slid in after her, sitting a little closer than Eve would have expected. She didn’t mind it. I

 

n a moment, a middle aged woman with a hardened face and hands like dried leather approached the table. She had a snarl on her face on default, but it softened when she looked at the two women.

 

“Oksana, hello again,” the bartender said.

 

“Hello Greta,” Oksana said sweetly. “How’s your wrist?” 

 

Greta waggled the hand that held a pad of paper.

 

“Better. Would have been worse if not for you. Watcha want, love?”

 

Oksana looked at Eve expectantly. 

 

“Oh, uh. Gin and tonic, please.”

 

“I’ll have the same, and make them stiff as a board, please.”

 

“You got it,” Greta said, and wandered back to the bar.

 

Eve gave Oksana a curious look, waiting for an explanation.

 

“Oh. Right,” Oksana said. “I was in here not too long ago and some drunk piece of shit tried to get rough with Greta over his bill. I, ah, took care of it.”

 

“What did you do?” 

 

Oksana shrugged. 

 

“I broke his nose...and both his thumbs,” she said with an innocent smile.

 

Eve was so shocked she was only able to laugh in reply. 

 

“Are you serious?” she asked. 

 

“Well, yeah. What else was I supposed to do? You have to teach people like that a lesson. Why, does that bother you?”

 

“No. No, I just...I wouldn’t have expected that from someone that looks so...I don’t know, harmless.”

 

Oksana smiled mischievously. 

 

“You will find that I am full of surprises, Eve. Oh, thank you Greta!” 

 

Oksana slid one of the drinks to Eve, and took a large gulp of her own. 

 

“You know I hated gin when we first moved to London. Don’t know how or why I grew fond of it, but I did.”

 

“When did you move here?” Eve asked.

 

Oksana fiddled with the mint sprig in her drink. Eve had noticed that any time Oksana seemed to be remembering something she would focus on some small inanimate object, until the memories had spilled out of her seemingly of their own accord. 

 

“Anna and I came here shortly after the wedding. She thought it was a good idea at the time, to get away from everyone that judged her for what she and I did. I like it here, actually. Russia was  _ boring _ . But of course, like everything else, Anna hates London now. She wishes we’d never come here. Though I’m sure she means she wishes she’d never come here with  _ me _ .”

 

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that,” Eve said in an empty attempt to console Oksana as her eyes got washed over with emotion again in a way that made Eve’s heart ache.

 

“Oh, sadly it is. But anyway, finish that, we’re not here to cry over shitty spouses,” she said, waving Greta down for another round. 

 

_ Fuck it _ , Eve thought, and drained her glass as fast as she could. 

 

*

 

Well, Eve was drunk. She’d definitely been more drunk than this before, but not that many times. Oksana had her laughing so hard over her impersonation of weird customers from her job she thought she might pee. Until her phone lit up. 

 

**_Niko_ **

_ Sorry I’m not home yet, love. Trying to get ahead on all these papers I have to grade. Love you.  _

 

Eve frowned, her stomach turning. She doubted he was grading papers. 

 

“Hey! Hey! Put that away!” Oksana insisted with a giggle, appearing tipsy herself as she waved her arms in Eve’s direction like she was trying to take her phone off of her. “No texts from shit husbands tonight!” 

 

“He doesn’t even know I’m not home.”

 

“Yeah! Because he is  _ shit _ . Now put it away! No, wait! Text him back. Say, oh give it to me I’ll do it.”

 

“What? No!” 

 

“Why not?”

 

“I’m not gonna let you text my husband!”

 

“It’s fine” she slurred, “It’s fine! I won’t say anything you wouldn’t want me to. Come onnn, Eve, give it.”

 

Eve rolled her eyes and handed the phone to her. Oksana snatched it up, taking a second to readjust her inebriated eyes to the brightness of the phone screen. She tapped out a message and then showed Eve the screen: 

 

_ “Sorry, baby, didn’t even notice you weren’t home. I’m out with a friend. Don’t know when I’ll be home.” _

 

“See,” Oksana said proudly. “Now he’ll wonder who the friend is, huh? It’s good. Trust me. And... _ send _ ,” Oksana said, but still held onto the phone, seeming to scroll through Eve’s messages. “Oof. He’s chatty about his boring teacher bullshit, isn’t he?”

 

“Oksana, can I-” Eve pleaded, reaching for the phone, self conscious about Oksana reading her personal messages to her husband.

 

“Oh, shit, Eve! Look at you!”

 

Shit. She knew exactly what Oksana had found. 

 

“Oksana, seriously!” 

 

“Do you send him nudes a lot?” she asked as she tilted her head, observing the racy picture in question. If Eve remembered right, it involved a pair of cuffs and some thigh high tights.

 

“I don’t send  _ nudes _ , I’m not nineteen. Now give me that.” 

 

“I cannot believe that fucker is cheating on you. Look how  _ hot _ you are. It’s ridiculous.”

 

“Oksana,” Eve warned, hoping her blush was not noticeable. 

 

“What? You should be proud. And he should be ashamed of himself. But here,” she gave it back. “You should send me that.”

 

“What?” Eve squeaked through nervous laughter. “Why?” 

 

Eve shrugged playfully. 

 

“Well, I can’t. You won’t give me your number.”

 

“Oh, yeah. You’re right. Well, give it back then so I can take a mental picture.”

 

Eve shoved her phone in her pocket. 

 

“You are so  _ odd _ ,” she said, flustered. 

 

“I suppose,” Oksana said with a playful laugh. “Anyhow, I think you are finally drunk enough to hear why I really brought you out tonight.” 

 

Eve sipped her gin and tonic, which seemed to get stronger each time it was refilled. And on that note, it seemed like each time her drink was refilled, she noticed that Oksana was sitting a little closer to her than before.

 

“Oh yeah, how’s that?” Eve asked, straw dangling from her mouth. 

 

If Eve had been of fully sound mind, she would have been alarmed by the sudden change in the air between the two of them, how it suddenly buzzed with exciting and terrible electricity. 

 

“I had a proposal for you. See, I was thinking about what you said yesterday. About how I should live a life that makes me happy. And you were right. And you should, too. But there’s something in the way. Technically, two somethings. And the way I see it, there would be no conventional way for us to rid ourselves of those people making us unhappy without them still leaving their prints on our lives afterwards, keeping us from both really being happy without them.” 

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well,” Oksana said with a breathy sigh as she swirled her finger around in her drink, “divorces are messy. And expensive. And even when those people are gone you still are a ‘divorcee’, you know? You still have this string attached to this person who gets to walk around being happy without you, talking about you like you were a bad phase.  _ Existing _ without you. And knowing that would leave a wound that would never really heal, would it? So, there is only one solution.” 

 

Eve blinked, her sluggish brain trying desperately to keep up with Oksana’s train of thought yet understanding it fully at the same time. 

 

“Which is?” she asked.

 

“We have to kill them,” Oksana said, and then broke into a hysterical, gleeful laugh, as if saying it out loud brought her untold elation. 

 

Eve felt the lightning crack in her mind once again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! To see how the story is progressing between updates, check the tag 'Wanna Kill My Wife' on my tumblr (@ schatzietess). 
> 
> This story is gonna be a lot of fun. Let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

“That’s…” Eve forced a laugh. “That’s funny. Very funny.” 

 

“What’s so funny?” Oksana replied, tilting her head to one side to look at her, drawing a sip of her drink into her mouth through her straw. 

 

“I mean, you’re kidding, right? You don’t actually think we should kill our spouses.”

 

Oksana blinked. 

 

“Of course I do, Eve.” 

 

Eve wanted to laugh again, wanting them both to just laugh together and make silly jokes again. But Oksana’s whole physicality had changed. The person she was talking to now was a different person than the girl she had come to this bar with. It was terrifying. It was thrilling. It…

 

Eve scooched in a little closer to Oksana. 

 

“But that’s illegal!” she hissed, eyes darting around the pub to see if anyone was in ear shot of their conversation. 

 

Oksana kept her chuckle in the back of her throat. 

 

“Yes. I am aware. But thank you for the consult, Ms. MI5.”

 

Eve put a frustrated hand to her temple.

 

“Look, I get it. You’re angry with your wife.  _ Trust _ me, I understand. But you need to think about the gravity of what you’re suggesting. This isn’t a thriller film or something, Oksana. This is real life. If you kill someone, you get caught, and then you rot in prison for a very, very long time.” 

 

“Do you, though?” Oksana said with a smirk. 

 

“Yes.”

 

“But do you?” 

 

“Why do you keep saying that?” Eve said, her voice rising in her frustration.

 

“Becuase, Eve!” Oksana said more loudly and with more waving of her arms than she probably intended. She had had a lot to drink, after all. “What is it you said you do at your job, huh? Catalog crimes that were never solved, right? And exactly how many of those are there?” 

 

Eve pictured the mountains of file boxes in her mind. 

 

Well…

 

“Those are unsolved becuase of odd circumstances,” Eve replied. “Lack of evidence, lack of eye witnesses. But most of the time, now more than ever, police can and  _ will _ find something that will lead them to a killer. It’s almost impossible to get away with.”

 

“Almost, but not completely. And that’s where you come in.” 

 

Eve pushed her drink aside, needing to sober up so she could think clearly. 

 

“How do you mean?” 

 

“Well, you know what kinds of circumstances make it easiest to not get caught. You look over those kinds of files all day. That makes you essential to my plan.”

 

“Oh,” Eve said with a bewildered laugh, “so in this Crazyland scenario in which we kill our spouses, I have to be the one to plan the murders? How considerate of you.”

 

“Eve, look at me,” Oksana willed, taking Eve’s hands in her own with a sudden intensity. “What do you think is going to happen next? Hmm? You confront Niko, you fight, maybe he decides he’ll be happier with his newer model, and leave you. And then what? Every time you see your friends and family they will look at you with pity, knowing that you were not enough for him? You try to move on, maybe. You get a new flat, fill it with new things, start to feel better about your life. Until one night you go out to your favorite restaurant, maybe with a date, and just as you’re starting to think to yourself ‘Wow. I’m finally starting to enjoy life again’, you look up, only to see Niko there with that bitch, happy, becuase it was one of his favorites restaurants, too. Will you be happy to see him there with her, Eve? Or will you wish he was fucking dead? Be honest.” 

 

Eve thought about the sushi restaurant four blocks from their house.

 

She  _ loved _ that restaurant. 

 

“I thought so,” Oksana said, taking her hands away from Eve’s and crossing them on the table in front of her. “Now picture another scenario. Something happens to Niko. Something tragic. A freak accident, maybe. You hold a funeral, everyone is there for you, to support you. You get to keep your house, you get a big fluffy dog to keep you company. Your boss probably gives you a promotion out of pity. And you get that nice fat life insurance check on top of that.” She moved closer to Eve, closer than she would have dared herself. “And then you find someone new, someone everyone tells you to go ahead and be happy with because you deserve it. And that person spends the rest of their life spoiling you so that you never know what it’s like to feel lonely again. And best of all, you never have to see Niko again. No one will. Not even that girl who thought she would get away with ruining your life.”

 

Eve felt a tightening in her chest. Why did what Oksana said make so much sense?

 

No. This was crazy. Couples move on from affairs all the time. She just wasn’t able to think clearly with Oksana so close to her, when her eyes raked over Eve’s eyes and lips with such an intensity that she was afraid to move. No, she had to pull herself together.

 

“So you are telling me that you would be okay with killing Anna?” Eve asked.

 

Oksana’s lips quivered, her gaze fluttering from one side to another before finally landing on Eve again. 

 

“Yes,” she said with considerate certainty. 

 

“Really?” Eve pushed. “You feel so little for her that you could just take her life and be able to move on from that?” 

 

Oksana blinked.

 

“She ruined my life, Eve,” she said sternly. 

 

“Oksana!” Eve said with a helpless laugh, clutching the girl’s forearm. “You’re still in your twenties! You have literally,  _ so _ much time to make your life into whatever you want it to be! You can just leave her!”

 

“No I can’t! I...I can’t…” 

 

A surge of emotion caused Oksana’s voice to crack. 

 

“I love her, Eve. I will always love her. More so than she ever loved me. Anna already had a life before me. And she will have a life after. But she is all I have ever had. And to know that she was out there, just fine without me with her...It would destroy me. But if she’s gone...I can finally move on. I can finally break her hold on my heart.”

 

Eve sighed. She couldn’t pretend to understand what had happened to this near stranger that got her here, but she could sympathize with her still somehow. 

 

“I...I’m sorry. But I don’t think that killing anyone is the answer to either of our problems.”

 

Villanelle frowned, seeming disappointed in her answer, yet still not entirely deterred by her crazy idea. 

 

“It’s late. Come on,” she said, “I’ll call you a cab.” 

 

In a moment, they were standing outside the pub, Eve sliding into the back seat of the cab. Oksana held the door open before Eve could close it, leaning in against the doorframe. 

 

“I know you believe it’s a bad idea right now. But...just...think about your life right now. And think about what you plan on doing next. Are you going to just let Niko get away with what he’s done to you, to your spirit? Or are you going to  _ do _ something about it?” 

 

Eve bit her lower lip, and nodded to let Oksana know she had heard and understood what she had said. With a wink, Oksana closed the door, and the cab took off. 

 

Eve let out a shuddering breath that she felt like she had been holding in all night.

 

*

 

When Eve arrived home, Niko was sitting at the kitchen counter, picking at some leftovers.

 

“Ah, there you are, my love. How was your night?” he asked.

 

Eve hadn’t really expected Niko to be around when she got home. She was startled, and ashamed of the fact that she had had so much fun without him.

 

Well, she had had fun up until she had considered killing him. She was only slightly more ashamed about that.

 

“Um, good. Good. You?” she asked. 

 

“Oh, you know, the usual. Grading papers, cleaning up after a bunch of monster teenagers, pretending I make more money than I do. Who, um, who were you with?”

 

Oh my god, Eve thought to herself, that hypocritical piece of shit is actually jealous?

 

“Just a...friend from work. She was having some relationship issues so I was trying to cheer her up. I’m...I’m pretty tired, I think I’ll just go to bed, okay?”

 

“Sure, I guess. Fine,” Niko said, frowning into his tupperware. 

 

Eve turned towards the stairs, and then stopped, and turned back to Niko.

 

“You...you’re sure you were at the school tonight?” 

 

Niko looked up at Eve, eyes wide for a moment. There was some food stuck to his mustache. Then his eyes settled into their usual casualness, and he plastered on a smile. 

 

“Of course, dear,” he said. 

 

Eve felt her chest tighten, and she headed up to their room with a solemn nod. When she entered the bedroom she found Niko’s dress shirt and pants tossed into the corner where he chucked all of his dirty laundry, even though the laundry hamper was right by his dresser. She picked the dress shirt up hesitantly, brought it to her nose, and smelled woman’s perfume. It made her want to throw up. 

 

She threw the shirt back on the ground, stomping on it a couple of times for good measure, realizing that yes, she was still a little drunk. She stripped off her own clothes, pulling on an oversized t-shirt, and crawled into bed, wondering what came next. 

 

As she laid in bed, alone, she wondered just how Oksana’s mind worked. How could she talk about murder as if it were so  _ easy _ ?

 

She rolled over, reaching to Niko’s nightstand to turn off the lamp, and saw his wedding ring sitting there. She hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t wearing it. How often had that happened, and she hadn’t even noticed? How many times, how many ways, had he slowly brought her to this point, to the point where she was sad and lonely and bored all the time, all while hiding his slow destruction of Eve’s life and happiness through placating ‘sweethearts’ and ‘darlings’ and ‘my loves’? 

 

Well, Eve thought, turning off the light and rolling back to her side of the bed, it  _ was _ easy. Murder, that is. In theory. If her college fixation on serial killers taught her anything it’s that it was, in fact, physically easy. But morally? It couldn’t be that easy.

 

Could it?

 

The more Eve thought about it, the more, well, curious she became. It was something to think about, at least. Something to focus her rage at Niko towards. How would she kill him, if she could? Knife? She could claim it was a cooking accident. No...any cop would see past that. Poison? No, not that either, she was always terrible at chemistry, and the last thing she needed was to underdose him and end up with a completely dependent vegetable or something. And besides, how would she explain how the poison got into his food? 

 

Or she could kill him, chop him up into little pieces, grind him up in a blender, and dump the remains down a sink…

 

Jesus, when did I become so dark?, Eve thought. 

 

But regardless of what she did, no matter how much she schemed, no matter how perfect her execution of her plan, the cops would always look at her as the most likely suspect. It was always the spouse that got the blame. But...

 

There was one idea that was growing slowly in the back of her mind. One that might solve her and Oksana’s problems at the same time…

 

But it was, of course, just a hypothetical thought. And not something she was going to act on. Or tell Oksana about. 

 

Niko crawled into bed shortly after, wordlessly. Eve pretended to be asleep. When they had first moved in together, what felt like a lifetime ago, he would kiss her on the cheek, stroke a lock of her hair, and tell her he loved her before going to sleep, whether she was awake to be aware of it or not. He did none of those things now.

 

Would she? Eve thought, remembering what Oksana had said before they parted ways. Would she let Niko get away with it? 

 

*

 

Eve had drank her coffee too fast the next morning, and now she felt sick to her stomach. Maybe it wasn’t just the coffee that was upsetting it. Eve was fidgety and nervous, her heart was racing. She had no idea what she would say to Oksana if she saw her this morning on the subway. And then, just like that, she appeared, and Eve froze, unsure if she could manage to speak at all. What was it about this woman that had Eve so...captured? 

 

Oksana sat down silently next to Eve, not making eye contact with her. Eve made herself look straight ahead to keep from staring, wondering, hoping for Oksana’s attention. 

 

Oksana looked down at her lap, picking at her fingernails, hands seemingly unable to stay still. 

 

“If I upset you last night,” she said, still looking down, “I am sorry.” 

 

Eve swallowed past a lump in her throat. 

 

“How would you do it?” Eve asked. 

 

“What?” Oksana said, looking up at Eve.

 

“If you were really going to kill your wife. How would you do it?” 

 

Oksana blinked, watching Eve’s face closely, trying to read her. 

 

“Push her down the stairs,” she finally replied, her tone making it sound more like a question than a statement. 

 

Eve scoffed. 

 

“There’s only a small chance that that would actually kill her. Come on. How would you  _ really _ do it?”

 

Oksana kept her eyes on Eve’s, her fingers flexing and then relaxing again in her lap as she contained something within her.

 

“A knife.”

 

“Where?” 

 

“Stomach, probably. Or maybe just a small cut to a major artery, watch her bleed out.” 

 

“Why?” 

 

Oksana smiled.

 

“Because I want to watch it happen.”

 

Eve felt something stirring inside her. It was  _ exciting _ to her to talk about this, Eve realized. Maybe a little too exciting.

 

“And then what?” Eve pushed.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Eve shrugged.

 

“Cops show up, find Anna in a pool of blood. What do you do?” 

 

She wished she knew what Anna looked like so that she could picture it in her mind: all the blood, the knife, the blank lifelessness in her face…

 

“Tell them it was a home invader,” Oksana replied.

 

“And when they don’t believe you?” 

 

“Tell them to fuck off and leave a grieving widow alone.”

 

“And when they throw you in jail? What then?”

 

Oksana furrowed her brow, frustrated with Eve’s persistent questions.

 

“Why are you saying these things, Eve?” 

 

“Because if you...if you’re serious about this, then you need to really think about how you’re going to pull it off. You have to be smart, or else you’re just gonna end up in jail and your life will be over as well as hers. Do you understand?” 

 

“Are you…” Oksana said hesitantly, “are you saying you want to do this?” 

 

Eve licked her lips, looking away from Oksana’s unrelenting gaze, not answering her question. 

 

A moment passed. 

 

“How would you do it then?” Oksana pressed. “How would you kill Niko?” 

 

Eve drew in a long breath, felt the excitement within her begin to grow again. 

 

“I think I would push him in front of a car. Let the driver take the blame. The trick would be to do it so it looked like wasn’t pushed from the car’s perspective. Maybe I would trip him. Best case scenario would be a hit and run. Automatically puts all the assumption of guilt onto the driver.” 

 

Oksana’s eyes widened.

 

“You’ve put some thought into this.” 

 

Eve shrugged. 

 

“Hit and runs are common to come across in my work. They happen all the time. No one ever blames the person standing right next to the victim.” 

 

“Huh,” Oksana said.

 

The subway was quickly running out of seats. Oksana scooched closer to Eve as another passenger sat to her left. Their bubble of relative privacy had popped, and they could no longer speak openly on the matter. However, before they dropped the subject of potential murder, Oksana leaned in close to Eve, turning her head so that her lips hovered just above the pulse point of Eve’s throat. 

 

“I like that idea,” she whispered, hovering so close to her still. Oksana raised a hand towards Eve’s face, took a lock of her hair in her hands, considering it like a work of art, and then pulled away from Eve as if they didn’t even know each other. 

 

Eve had to remind herself to breathe. 

 

It was...fine that they were talking about this, Eve told herself. It was harmless, after all. They were just talking about murder to make themselves feel better about their shitty spouses. It’s not like either of them were actually going to go through with it. 

 

Right? 

 

Eve snuck in a glimpse at Oksana, and saw that she was smiling, her eyes bright and wild as they looked ahead at her upcoming stop. Eve felt a similar smile creep onto her own lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So not all that much actually happened in this chapter, but I hadn't updated in awhile so i just posted what I had. There is gonna be...so...much...tension between these two. It may kill me. 
> 
> PS you guys' response to this story has been so amazing and overwhelming. Thank you so much, truly. I only hope i can live up to expectations with this one, because if i can pull this story off the way i want its gonna be so fucking worth it. 
> 
> Someone had asked so I'm gonna guess that updates are gonna be roughly every 2 weeks. I'm gonna do my best. 
> 
> Love you guys. Your comments and feedback is always welcome. Even if i don't respond right away or at all, just know I see every one of your comments and squeal a little bit over them because they make me so happy. Enjoy the rest of your weekend :)))


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'we keep running into each other' tropes are fun if villanelle is involved cuz there's always the chance that it's actually light stalking and not coincidence at all...

Eve grasped her glass as if it contained every last shred of hope in her life that she had. In reality, all it contained was some grotesquely pink liquid made by a bartender that was trying to impress Elena with his mixology skills. Delicious? Yes. Embarrassing? Also yes. But whatever, it was doing what it was supposed to do: get Eve drunk so she could forget about the bizarre week she had had. 

 

She felt someone squeeze her shoulder. She turned to see Bill giving her a concerned look. 

 

“You still with us there, Eve?” 

 

“That’s not even remotely a proper question to ask me right now.” 

 

He frowned into his Guinness. 

 

“Still mad about the transfer then?”

 

“You could say that, yeah.” 

 

“Oh, come on, Eve,” Elena said as she approached the table from the bar, her and Kenny carrying the next round of drinks between the two of them. “You know we all hate you being away, too. But you just have to keep at it until the department forgets about your little...transgression.” 

 

“I really don’t see what the big deal was.” 

 

“You gave a kid on a field trip tour of the department a taser to look at and he shot his friend in the knob with it.” 

 

“Well how was I supposed to know he was a sadistic little fuck?” Eve protested.

 

“His asking for a taser to look at didn’t tip you off at all?” Bill asked with an amused smile.

 

“Whatever, shut up,” Eve said, taking a large swig of her drink and wincing becuase Jesus  _ God _ she was going to have a sugar headache in the morning. “The point is. The punishment does not fit the crime.” 

 

“Frank wanted to sack you,” Elena reminded her.

 

“Well Frank is a fish microwaving dick swab.” 

 

“Hey! Dick swab is my thing!” Bill said in an outrage. 

 

“That’s what she said!” an unknown voice said from behind Eve. She turned, to see a young man with oddly voluminous hair and a smug grin approaching the table. He sat down and took what was meant to be Kenny’s drink from the table, sucking half of it down in one go. 

 

“Who is this? Who the fuck is this?” Eve said, equal parts perplexed and pissed that someone she didn’t know was interrupting what was supposed to be the one night she’d had all week that felt normal. 

 

“That’s Hugo,” Kenny said in a polite grumble, and went to the bar to get himself another drink.

 

“What the fuck is a Hugo?” Eve pressed. The man only smiled widely in response to her annoyance with his presence. 

 

“The new intern,” Bill said with gritted teeth as he waited for Eve’s impending explosion on the new addition to the Saturday night bar crew. 

 

“What the fuck do you need another intern for? You have Kenny.”

 

“Yeah well, you know,” Elena said, “since you left we were falling behind. Jess is still on maternity leave, and the higher ups were looking for a department to add him into anyway, so…”

 

Eve’s eyes widened. 

 

“So you replaced me?”

 

“Oh, come on, Eve. No one could ever replace  _ you _ ,” Hugo said in a cajoling tone that assumed a level of familiarity with her that she very much would not tolerate.

 

“Hey Hugo?” she asked.

  
“Hmm?” He said with a flirtatious quirk of his eyebrow.

 

“You see this cute little umbrella in my drink?”

 

“Yes, why?”

 

“I’m gonna stab you in the eye with it.” 

 

Hugo blinked, doing his best to mask his shock at Eve’s threat, and pulled his chair away slightly from the rest of the group. 

 

“So, Eve,” Kenny, sweet oblivious Kenny, said as he rejoined the table, “How was your first week on the new job?”

 

Eve bit her lower lip. How had the last week gone, exactly? Let’s see, she all but lost her mind in a sea of monotonous paperwork, had found out her husband was cheating on her, met an unfairly attractive woman in a subway, told that woman all of her deepest darkest secrets, and sort of, kind of, was scheming to kill her husband with said woman.

 

“It’s been...eventful,” she replied. “And boring as shit all at the same time.” 

 

Eve fell quiet again after that, lost in her thoughts. Niko was playing bridge tonight, or so he said. Eve was inclined to believe him rather than picture what else he might be doing, and with who. 

 

Would it be better to dispose of a body or let it be found? The upside being, obviously, that there would be no body for the cops to find. But no body insinuates that someone would have a reason to make it disappear. And, besides, some killers were able to be charged without a body of proof. 

 

But not often. 

 

Eve thought about the killer John Haigh. Sulfuric acid to melt the bodies. Not the cleanest method of disposal, but definitely effective. But he’d been impatient, and hadn’t made sure to let the body break down enough before dumping the remains. And finding chunks of bone and teeth in a blood slurry in someone’s back yard was definitely more damning than a body found at the bottom of a staircase from what could be explained away as a ‘bad fall’. 

 

However, Eve thought herself more of a patient person than John Haigh. Patient, but probably not steel-stomached enough to watch her husband slowly turn to goo in a vat of acid. And she wasn’t strong enough to even pick Niko up, let alone drag him to, say, a river to dump him in. In fact, she probably wasn’t strong enough to overpower any kind of struggle he might put up if he believed he was in danger. So, what options did that leave? 

 

Eve shook her head, pushing her pervasive thoughts of spousal homicide aside. This wasn’t a healthy coping mechanism at all. But her mind kept going there anyway, no matter how much she tried to stop it. It was like a flood gate had been opened, a part of her self that she had never even knew existed was suddenly unable to be contained. 

 

No, that wasn’t quite right. Eve...Eve always knew something about her wasn’t quite...the same as most people. But it wasn’t comforting to think about one’s ‘otherness’, so she had never let herself dwell on it much. But now, devoid of human interaction for the majority of her week, that ‘otherness’ was becoming harder and harder to ignore. 

 

And that ‘otherness’ seemed very interested in figuring out how to get away with murder.

 

A splashing tequila shot put down in front of her pulled Eve out of her thoughts.

 

“Absolutely not,” she said.

 

“Oh come on, Eve! Just one!” 

 

“Elena, you are the tequila devil and I have learned my lesson from the last two monstrous hangovers I’ve had because of you.” 

 

“Fine,” Hugo said, snatching the shot away from her, “If you aren’t going to appreciate a free drink, I’ll find someone who will. Let’s see…” his eyes scanned the room, and then locked on the far end of the bar. “Oh, perfect, hot blonde at your nine o’clock. Back in a moment.” 

 

Hugo downed the shot, winced, and made his way towards his target. Eve followed his movements with her eyes, until she saw him approach a young, admittedly hot…

 

Oh, shit. 

 

Oh  _ shit _ . 

 

What were the odds, that out of all the bars to be at in London on a Friday night, Oksana ended up being in the same bar as Eve? 

 

Eve blinked several times, sure that her eyes were playing tricks on her. But, no, they weren’t. Oksana was, in fact, sitting at a high top table with a thin brunette woman who looked around her age, and what looked to be her very cross boyfriend. The two girls were laughing together, enjoying each other’s company as if the man with them didn’t even exist, when Hugo descended on them. 

 

The bar was too loud and the table was too far away for Eve to be able to hear what was being said. Hugo leaned against the table, turned away from Eve and her coworkers. Oksana and her friend stopped laughing, and looked at him with a fair bit of annoyance. The boyfriend tensed, wrapping his arm around the brunette in a very possessive fashion. Getting the hint, Hugo turned to give Oksana his full attention. She visibly bristled as he tried to charm her. Eve noticed the hand she had resting on the table ball up into a fist. Eve remembered the story Oksana told her about how she handled men in bars who behaved inappropriately. 

 

Oh no.

 

Eve rushed out of the booth and elbowed her way through the growing crowd inside the bar, until she had approached the table. Before she could think of a more appropriate way of handling the situation, she gripped Hugo’s wrist and yanked him away from the table just as Oksana had rocketed out of her chair towards him, preparing to do God knows what. 

 

“Oi!” Hugo yelped as Eve pulled him away. “What’s your deal?”

 

“I don’t think she wants to talk to you, Hugo. Why don’t you go find someone else to prey on, hmm?”

 

Oksana stepped back, looking to see who had pulled Hugo away from her oncoming assault, and her eyes went wide. 

 

“You know this person?” she asked Eve.

 

“No better than I know you,” Eve replied. 

 

Oksana blinked, seeming to understand what Eve was trying to say. 

 

“Eve, I was kind of in the middle of something, here,” Hugo protested. 

 

“Yeah, well, now you’re not. Cool?”

 

Eve’s grip was still on Hugo’s wrist, and it tightened until he squirmed uncomfortably. Eve let him go, and Hugo grumbled under his breath, walking away. Eve turned her attention back to the table, and Oksana was still watching Eve incredibly closely. 

 

“I’m sorry that he was bothering you, uh, Miss. I’ll, um, I’ll make sure he leaves you alone.”

 

Eve couldn’t act as if she knew Oksana. There was no story that she could come up with to explain their acquaintance that wouldn’t reveal her guilt. 

 

Oksana seemed to understand this. Despite the palpable tension between them, Oksana revealed nothing, and only made a simple “thank you” in response, before reluctantly turning back to her friends. Eve wanted to say something else, but she knew she couldn’t. She eventually turned away from the young woman, ignoring her friend’s confused looks as she walked past her own table and directly to the bathroom. 

 

Eve leaned against the sink, letting out a few shaky breaths as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. It felt as if up until now Oksana had been a fantasy, a waking dream Eve occupied her mind with to get through a tumultuous time in her life. Oksana been so detached from the rest of Eve’s life, such a strange island that no one knew about but Eve, she almost could have convinced herself that she had made her up until now. But then Hugo the creepy intern had barreled right through that wall between fantasy and reality, and Eve was forced to see Oksana and their bizarre friendship under the harsh light of a rather jarring reality check.

 

Eve realized that she had to make a choice. Either accept that she was seriously considering murdering her husband and scheming about it with a girl just as fucked up as she was, and follow that path wherever it led her, or walk away from it right now, and never talk to Oksana again.

 

The bathroom door opened behind Eve. She looked through the mirror to see Oksana stepping in, and locking the door behind her. Eve gulped. 

 

“I could have taken care of him myself, you know,” she said, leaning up against the wall behind her, fingertips tracing a bit of graffiti sharpied onto the bathroom door. 

 

“I know. That’s what I was worried about.”

 

Oksana chuckled quietly. 

 

“That was good thinking, acting like we don’t know each other. No way to connect us if something were to...happen.” 

 

Now was the time to tell her. Eve knew it. This had to end. They had to go their separate ways, and never speak again. Eve tried to find the words she needed, but instead…

 

“What kind of something might that be?” Eve asked. 

 

Oksana tilted her head to one side, smiling at Eve. She pushed herself away from the wall, stepping closer to Eve, who turned to face her, her hands gripping the sink behind her. 

 

“I think you already have an idea in mind, don’t you? A plan, maybe?”

 

“I-I don’t…”

 

“Yes, you do,” Oksana said, bringing herself dangerously close to Eve. She placed each of her own hands next to where each of Eve’s hands rested against the sink, encircling her completely, but not touching her. The smell of Villanelle’s perfume and the slight alcohol on her breath filled Eve’s senses. “Go on, then. Tell me.” 

 

“Well I…” Eve stammered, finding it hard to look Oksana directly in the eye. When she tried, she felt...overwhelmed? Flustered? No, that wasn’t the right word. The right word was  _ aroused _ . “I guess I was thinking that, you know, no matter what we do, no matter how perfect the, well, execution is, for lack of a less ironic term...the assumption of guilt will still always fall on the spouses. You and I, I mean. That is, if we kill our  _ own _ spouses.” 

 

“Hmm,” Oksana replied, thinking. She insisted on maintaining her closeness to Eve as she did so, and Eve couldn’t help but breathe a little more heavily with every passing moment that they spent this way. “So you’re suggesting that I kill your husband and you kill my wife?”

 

“I mean...we can’t be pinned for a murder we can prove that we didn’t actually commit.” 

 

“And you would be okay with that? You would let  _ me _ kill Niko?”

 

Eve thought about it. She had pictured several scenarios of how she herself would kill her husband, and each of them were fascinating, if not terrifying and anxiety inducing. But when she started to picture how Oksana might kill Niko, how she might sneak up on him and stab him, maybe in the back, or maybe in the chest so that she could watch the light leave his eyes…

 

The thought of it was, as much as Eve hated to admit it,  _ thrilling _ . She wanted it. She wanted Oksana to do it. And maybe behind all of that, Eve wanted her to do it because she wanted  _ her,  _ and at some point those two desires had been inextricably connected to each other.

 

“Yes,” Eve breathed.

 

“And you think you would be able to kill Anna?”

 

Eve blinked. Oksana kept her eyes locked on Eve’s, making her feel feverish and  _ alive _ .

 

“You don’t know until you try, right?”

 

“But you don’t even know her.”

 

“Maybe it’s...maybe it’s better that way. Easier, I mean.” 

 

Oksana let out a deep breath with such release it was as if she’d been holding it back since they first met. 

 

“Okay,” she said.

 

“Okay?”

  
“Yeah, it’s...perfect, actually. It means we’re in this together, right?” 

 

Eve’s mouth went dry. She nodded. 

 

“Yeah. Together.” 

 

“Good,” Oksana said with a slight smile, and pulled away from Eve, leaving her feeling cold without her body heat so close to her. “But we’ll still need to do some research. Me on Niko, you on Anna. We’ll have to meet them, somehow. Luckily I already know how to make that happen.”

 

“How?” Eve said, unconsciously moving closer to Oksana again as if she were being pulled into her orbit. 

 

“End of semester party for the teacher’s next week. Niko and Anna should both be there, and we could both come with them.”

 

“Wait...what?”

 

“Eve,” Oksana said in a judgemental tone, “Come on, you didn’t know that your husband and my wife work for the same school district?”

 

Eve’s eyes went wide.

 

“No? I...no! How did you…”

 

“Coincidence. Well, I mean, I did do a search of your husband online and found his name in the school directory. But it’s pretty cool, right? If only I had known, we could have met and murdered each other’s spouses a long time ago. But just remember,” she said, raising a hand to Eve’s face and tangling her fingers into her hair. Eve leaned into the touch far too eagerly. “You and I have to pretend to not know each other if this is going to work. So,” she brought her face so close to Eve’s that Eve gasped quietely. “Don’t look at me like you’re looking at me right now, or I might not be able to stay away from you.” 

 

Eve could only nod in response. But she wanted so badly to close the distance between the two of them, to…

 

Someone knocked on the bathroom door. Eve jumped, pulling away from Oksana. Oksana, unbothered by the sudden interruption, winked. 

 

“Well then, see you next weekend,” she said, and let herself out of the bathroom. 

 

Shit, Eve thought. Shit, shit,  _ shit _ . 

 

Eve waited a few moments before she exited the bathroom herself. Her coworkers were laughing amongst themselves, enjoying a simple Friday night out at the bar, completely unaware of the darkeness within someone they called a friend. 

 

“Elena?” Eve asked. “Time for tequila.”

 

“Fuck yes, fun Eve is back!” Elena squealed. 

 

And she was right. This version of Eve, was, undoubtedly,  _ fun _ .

 

In a moment, Elena had procured a round of tequila shots for the table. Eve grabbed one hastily, and her eyes searched for Oksana. When they found her, she was already looking at Eve with a drink in her hand. She raised it as a toast, and turned back to her friends as if nothing had happened. 

 

Eve raised the shot to her lips, and downed it.

  
_ Cheers _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk this scene isnt that thrilling or well polished but I hadn't updated in a hot minute so i made myself finish SOMETHING so i could post. But V, Eve, Anna, Niko, and Gemma all in the same room next chapter should be FUN THO. 
> 
> As i've said, I'll try to update every two weeks, but I'm also a farmer and it's peak season so like the struggle is real. Bear with me, guys.
> 
> As always, your comments and feedback are amazing and nourish my needy writer soul. 
> 
> Love ya,  
> Tess


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which all the players in this game are introduced

Eve felt entirely unhinged. That’s what happened to someone who had felt all but isolated for almost a full week. She spent the work day in the dingy storage basement of the MI5 adjunct building opening boxes, scanning paper files to the online data system, and becoming increasingly paranoid about the occasional rustling she heard in the tall filing shelves that was probably, hopefully, just a mouse. She had gotten sick of listening to music entirely and had taken to listening to true crime and serial killer podcasts while she lazily read through report after report of unresolved assaults, murders, and other cruel acts. 

 

When she was home, she was polite and cordial with Niko, chatting idly with him as much as she thought was necessary to keep him from suspecting that she might be on to him. From an outsider perspective, it seemed like nothing was wrong. They ate dinner together, talked about their day, had a glass of wine and a couple of laughs together as they watched some boring television show. They’d even had sex, once, though it was routine and uninspiring, and only made Eve wonder if he touched Gemma with more fervor, more enthusiasm.

 

Bill’s baby was ill, and as such he was tired, busy, and not very responsive when she tried to reach out. Elena was enjoying the passion of a new relationship with a person who’s name she’d not yet revealed, so she was equally unresponsive. 

 

And on top of everything else, Oksana had all but dropped off the face of the Earth without any warning or any hint of what she was up to. Had her work schedule changed, causing her to change the routine of her commute? Was she away? Had she simply come to her senses and avoided Eve and their plan altogether? Eve had no way of knowing. She didn’t have Oksana’s phone number, didn’t even know her last name. 

 

She still clung to their last conversation like it was a lifeboat, or maybe an anchor. She found herself mindlessly searching on her phone for information on Anna. On the woman she would, could, kill. She didn’t want to think of it that way, not yet at least. She was simply looking for her becuase, as it turned out, it was impossible to find any trace of Oksana when all she knew about her was her first name and a bit of choppy information about her life with Anna. 

 

Teachers are easy to find. Teachers had to be accessible to their students and to their parents. Someone like Oksana didn’t have to be accessible to anyone, not even Eve. 

 

There were three teachers named Anna in Niko’s school’s directory. One was far too old and grouchy looking to ever be with someone like Oksana. The second was in her thirties. She had honey brown hair, and a smile that was too bright, too enthusiastic. Eve could see Oksana with someone like her, maybe, but she doubted a woman with a smile like that would appreciate her humor and grit. 

 

The third woman, however, seemed to be the closest match. She looked to be in her early forties. Her hair was darker brown, curly like Eve’s, though less impressive, if she was being honest. Her lips were full but in need of a bolder shade of lipstick. Her eyes were...tired. Tired in a way that suggested she was challenged each and every day, and did not have the vitality or spirit to accept the challenge anymore.

 

This Anna taught languages, had a few pictures of her groups of students on her profile on the school website, and, after a good bit of scrolling through old news headlines, had in fact caused a bit of a stir in a small town in Russia after having an alleged affair with a student. 

 

And, of course, her last name was Russian. That was Eve’s biggest clue. But, admitting that took the fun out of the investigative work she was doing. 

 

Eve wondered at what kind of pair the two of them made. Not as they were now, the struggling, tense civility they managed together, by Oksana’s account. But how had they been when they were happy? What did they have in common? Who did most of the cooking? Who told more jokes? Who drove who home after a long night out? What did they talk about as they drifted off to sleep? In the middle of the night, when thunder cracked in the distance and rain poured outside, was it Anna who pulled Oksana close unconsciously as they slept, or the opposite? 

 

More often than not Eve found herself wondering how it all started. She pictured a young Oksana, too young for all the trouble she started. She imagined her sitting in Anna’s classroom a little too long, after all the students had moved on to their next lesson. Who had made the first move, she wondered? Had Anna known, like Eve knows now, that her first marriage had an eventual expiration date? Or had Oksana brought it to a finite end?

 

Had Anna been the instigator? Or did she, like Eve, feel pulled into by her smile, her charm, being pulled into her orbit and falling into her gravity, not caring if she burned up on impact?

 

_ You think you would be able to kill Anna?  _ Oksana had asked her. Eve would hear the question repeated in her mind, and she would shiver.

 

All of this was culminating in Eve’s mind like a sickness. Her dreams had become dark, violent. She’d wake in a cold sweat, the memory of them already fading, but the fear she felt in her heart made her sure that these were not just average dreams. Her subconscious was working through something, something volatile, and it didn’t even have the courtesy to clue her in on the action.

 

Friday morning was much the same. Eve woke with a start, gasping for air, the last thing she remembered was the flash of a knife in her mind’s eye, a sickening squelch, and nothing else. Niko was sleeping soundly next to her, unaware of the tumultuous storm in her head. She rolled over to look at him, really look at him, and wondered at how different he looked from when they were first married. 

 

Age is a gradual thing. You don’t notice how it changes a person unless you look through pictures of how they used to be and how you used to exist alongside them. But Eve seemed to notice the changes in Niko so clearly now. The wrinkles around his eyes, the fullness of his face, which had been so narrow and angular when they first met. His mustache, that god awful mustache, which now had a couple strands of gray in it. His lips were paler than they’d once been, his hands rougher, less delicate.

 

What did he see when he looked at Eve? Did he see the same woman that he’d known for so long, oblivious to how she’d changed over time? Or did he see someone older, someone less captivating than the Eve he’d married? And was that why he’d chosen to find someone new to fill his time? 

 

Eve hated the passage of time. And she hated that it might be held against her. 

 

She scooched closer to Niko in their bed, nudging his shoulder. He roused in the way he always did when she woke him before his alarm. His mouth twitched, his hands moved instinctively to his face to block out the rising of the sun, and he grunted questioningly. 

 

“Don’t you have something going on at the school tonight? That end of semester thing with the other teachers?” 

 

“Uh,” Niko said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Yeah. Why?”

 

“Well do you want me to meet you or do you want to drive there together?”

 

Niko blinked, eyes widening as if he was wondering if he was really awake. 

 

“You...you want to go?” 

 

“Well, yeah, that’s what I just said, isn’t it?”

 

“But...you never want to go. You never even remember that it’s happening.” 

 

“Well. I remember now. So?” 

 

Niko seemed to falter, holding in an apprehension he could not speak into reality.

 

“You sure? You really don’t have to…”

 

“I want to,” Eve said firmly.

 

Niko sighed, and then forced a smile.

 

“I...I’ll pick you up here then, I guess? Five thirty sound good?”

 

“Okay,” Eve said in an oddly perky tone, and hauled herself out of bed to face the day. 

 

She suddenly felt more energized than if she’d drank a whole pot of coffee. She pretended not to know why, but she knew.

 

Oksana might be there. She said she would be. And Eve clung to that hope with everything she had. 

 

*

 

Eve got on the subway with renewed hope. But it was short lived. Once again, Oksana did not appear. 

 

With new found defeat, Eve tossed her bag onto her makeshift desk in the basement she’d fashioned out of a rickety card table she’d found back in storage. Every other counter space in the vicinity had been stacked sky high with paperwork. She sunk into her rickety office chair, not knowing if she could bring herself to get through another day. 

 

There was a knock on the file room door. Eve jolted, the thought of another human existing in the building completely foreign to her. 

 

“Eve, uh, Polastee?” 

 

“It’s Polastri,” she responded automatically at the butchering of her, well, Niko’s, last name. She turned to see what she recognized as one of the inter-department mail deliverers at the door. 

 

“Oh. Sorry. Um. There’s been some mail piling up at your old box at headquarters. I guess they forgot to update your transfer information. So…”

 

“Oh, um, thanks. Just...add it to any of the piles of crap, I guess,” Eve said blankly, and turned back to her ancient computer as it booted up, the fans on the computer tower screaming in agony as they forced the outdated technology to struggle through another day. 

 

After a few hours, Eve got hungry, and seeing as she had no one around to tell her when she could go to lunch and for how long, and since, fuck it, it was Friday anyhow, she got up. She stretched her legs and rolled her head back and forth to stretch out her aching neck, and headed towards the the door, thinking that she might try that little cafe across the street, finally. Before she got to the door, she glanced down at the pile of mail on top of a stack of folders, and picked it up, reading through it quickly. Memo after useless memo, her last pay stub, and a summary of her transfer paperwork, ironically. She rolled her eyes at the monotony of it all, and went to toss the mail back onto the pile it had been sitting on, only then seeing the thin, white box that was sitting there. 

 

Eve tilted her head, considering the box with piqued curiosity. It looked like a gift box from a department store. But why would it have been in with her office mail? She picked it up, and as she brought it nearer to her face for closer inspection, she got a whiff of a familiar scent. 

 

It was the scent of Oksana’s perfume. 

 

Eve’s heart leapt, or perhaps lurched, realizing that if Oksana wanted to communicate with her in any way outside of their chance encounters, she knew nothing about her other than where she worked, so her sending something to the MI5 office made sense, as dangerous and thrilling as that thought was. 

 

Eve traced the outline of the box with her index finger, daring herself to resist opening it. But she couldn’t. Of course she couldn’t. In a moment, she was pulling the lid off of the box and tearing past the tissue paper to see what laid underneath, and the contents made her gasp aloud. 

 

Eve pulled a garment out of the bag. A silk dress, cut high on the neck and cinched in the middle, with a bold linear pattern of black and white. It was more expensive than anything Eve would ever buy herself, or could ever afford even if she wanted to. She admired it, rubbing the luxurious fabric between her fingers. Beneath the dress in the box was a pair of sleek black pumps, a tube of lipstick, a bottle of pricey looking perfume, and a note. 

 

She set the dress down carefully next to the box. She took the lipstick out, opened it, to reveal a sinful shade of red. She picked up the perfume, took off the stopper, breathing in the heavenly smell. Then, finally, she took out the note, her hands trembling as she unfolded it. The handwriting was large, elegant, and swept from one letter to the next with a meticulous, practiced hand. It read:

 

_ Darling Eve, _

_ Sorry I’ve been away, _

_ Here’s something to make up for it. _

_ See you tonight _

_ O.x _

 

And in that moment, as Eve struggled to catch her breath, she knew. She knew that all those years ago, when Anna and Oksana had met, who had been more captivated by who. 

 

*

 

Eve could wear it tonight, if she wanted.

 

She could.

 

But she wouldn’t. 

 

She  _ wouldn’t _ .

 

Eve stood in front of her bedroom mirror in her lingerie. She held the dress up against her body.

 

She would.

 

Eve heard the door open downstairs. Niko was home. She didn’t have time to change her mind now. She slipped it on and,  _ Christ _ , she looked good. Did all expensive clothes fit this well?, she wondered as she admired herself in the mirror. And how had Oksana even known her size? 

 

God, did it even mattered when she was wearing something this  _ delicious _ ? 

 

“Eve?” Niko called as his feet thumped their way up the steps. “Eve, I-holy shit.” 

 

Eve made herself look away from her reflection long enough to see Niko positively gaping at her from the bedroom doorway.

 

“Oh, hey,” she said, stepping away from the mirror and padding her way to the bathroom to finish getting ready. 

 

“New dress?” Niko asked, following her.

 

“Uh, yeah,” she said, picking up her mascara and applying it to her lashes with a practiced hand. 

 

Niko said nothing, still staring at her. Feeling unnerved, she turned to him.

 

“What, is it too much?”

 

“No, no it’s…” he struggled. “I’ll definitely have the hottest wife at the party.” 

 

“Hm, I doubt that,” Eve replied, trying not to envision what Oksana might be wearing when she arrived. 

 

“You want to, ah,” Niko said, quirking his eyebrows up in a way that meant that Eve was supposed to now try and seduce him.

 

It was always on her to make the first move. Just once she wanted him to take control, to dominate her, to…

 

“We don’t want to be late, darling,” she said, pushing thoughts of Oksana aside, of their moment in the bar when she had locked the bathroom door. “Ask me again when we get home, hmm?” 

 

Niko gave her an empty smile. 

 

“Okay, I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready.” 

 

Eve wondered if moments like this were why her marriage was crumbling silently beneath her. And then she wondered how that lipstick would look on her. 

 

*

 

Niko pulled up to the parking lot behind the auditorium. Becuase of course it was in an auditorium. Eve remembered suddenly why she always intentionally forgot about these events. Niko held out his hand to Eve. Eve took it, knowing it would seem pretty shitty if she didn’t. He led her through the double doors and into the auditorium, which looked like it had been toilet papered by some punk kids, except the toilet paper in this instance was cheap paper garland in the school’s colors. The alcohol she had been promised consisted of an ice tub full cheap beer and canned gin and tonic, a few boxes of wine, and a dubious looking punch bowl.

 

Rule number one. Never drink the punch. Even at a teacher’s end of semester party.

 

Eve’s eyes searched the room eagerly, looking for the one reason she had made herself come here. When she didn’t immediately see her, Eve felt foolish, overdressed, and hugely disappointed. 

 

“Drink?” she asked Niko, not even waiting for him to respond as she walked herself over to the folding table “bar”. 

 

She let out a shaky breath, wondering just what the hell she was doing. What was the point of tonight again? Watching Oksana’s wife closely so she could learn enough about her to decide how she wanted to kill her? God, what was happening to Eve? 

 

She cracked open a gin and tonic with too much effort, and the contents came bubbling out the top, spilling onto the floor.

 

“Shit,” she muttered to herself, slurping up as much of it as she could, and hoping that no one had noticed. 

 

“You know you should tap on it first,” a voice behind her said. It was female, English, and almost fake in it’s sweetness. Eve spun around, and nearly choked on her drink. 

 

Oksana was wearing a beautifully tailored suit, the jacket unbuttoned, revealing her white button up shirt and black suspenders underneath. She pushed the jacked back behind her hands as she placed them in her pockets, looking Eve up and down in a way that was unnerving and thrilling at the same time. Eve thought that her outfit was oddly matched to Eve’s dress, and she wondered if it was intentional…

 

Eve swallowed her mouthful of gin and tonic with a nervous gulp, and her mouth went dry as she continued to gape at Oksana. 

 

“You do accents now?” she asked. 

 

Oksana shrugged, her eyes flitting about the room before landing on Eve again. 

 

“When I feel like it,” she said in her native accent. “That dress looks good on you, by the way.” 

 

“Why did you…”

 

“Shh,” Oksana interrupted, looking down at the selection at the bar with a distasteful scowl. “We don’t know each other, remember?”

 

Oksana poured white wine into a plastic cup, looking like it pained her to do so. She then turned to walk away from the table, her hand brushing against Eve’s forearm as she went past her. 

 

“Enjoy your evening,” she whispered, and headed across the auditorium.

 

Eve’s eyes followed her as she walked towards where Anna stood, talking to another teacher. Eve’s breath caught in her throat.

 

Anna. 

 

Oksana’s wife.

 

The woman she was tasked to kill.

 

Villanelle sauntered up next to her wife, her head tilting in consideration of the man she was talking to. She glanced at Eve. Eve looked away. Niko was standing a few paces away, his eyes searching the room as if he was looking for someone. His gaze landed to Eve’s left, and a small smile crept onto his lips. Eve turned her head to see where he was looking, and found a woman in her thirties wearing a pink floral pattern dress that clung to annoyingly large breasts. Her hair was long and brown and not nearly as voluminous as Eve’s, her lips were fuller, but the color she painted them with was far too  _ pink _ , her eyes glistened with innocence and optimism. She smiled back at Niko, giving him a little wave and a wink.

 

There was no way the world was this small.

 

The woman excused herself from the person she had been talking to, and made her way towards Niko. 

 

Oh, hell no, Eve thought, taking another swig of her drink, and then grabbing another can before speed walking back towards her husband. The woman was three paces away from Niko. Eve was two. She surged forward, directly blocking the woman’s path, and Niko’s attention, looking at him with wild eyes. 

 

“Honey! Hi!” she said, and pressed the other drink roughly into his hand. She spun around to face the woman, who was just behind her, looking slightly startled. “And hello to you!” she held out her hand.

 

It hung there uselessly for a moment before the woman, faltering slightly at Eve’s intensity, raised her own hand to shake hers. 

 

“Uh, this is Eve,” Niko said, sidestepping away from Eve to stand between the two women. “My wife. Eve, this is, uh, this is Gemma.”

 

Of fucking course it was. 

 

Why hadn’t Eve thought of the possibility that Niko’s mistress was a coworker of his? The only other people he saw on a regular basis were the seniors at his sad little bridge club. All this time she had been looking up information on Anna, when she could have been cyber stalking the woman who made Eve want to kill him in the first place. And, God, she could kill him right now. Of all the women he could have used to ruin his marriage, why her? She could have understood it if had been some twenty something blonde with legs for days. But her? What did she have that Eve didn’t? 

 

“Gemma,” Eve said, her voice sounding foreign to her, at least an octave higher than normal. “How nice to meet you. Yes. I am Niko’s  _ wife _ .”

 

“Oh, well,” Gemma said as she gained her composure. “How nice to finally meet you! We’ve all heard so much about you. And gosh, aren’t you beautiful! And that dress, I mean, wow!”

 

Don’t you fucking compliment me, Eve thought bitterly.

 

She felt her facial muscles begin to ache as she stared Gemma down. She realized that she must have had a manic, excessively wide smile on her face as she looked at Gemma. Gemma cleared her throat, shrinking under Eve’s gaze and her refusal to reply. Gemma’s eyes flicked to Niko as a silent plea for help.

 

“Uh, Eve?” Niko asked cautiously. 

 

Eve turned her head acknowledge Niko, but her eyes stayed on Gemma. 

 

“Yes, darling?”

 

“I don’t drink gin and tonic.” 

 

“Oh, you don’t?” Eve asked innocently.

 

“No.” 

 

“Well. It’s in a fucking can. So. How bad could it be?” 

 

Gemma was practically squirming under Eve’s unbroken stare. 

 

“Right. Okay, then. I guess I’ll give it a go,” Niko conceded.

 

Eve’s eyes began to sting. She realized she hadn’t blinked in awhile. 

 

“Sweetheart,” she said suddenly, turning to face her husband. “You know that pack of cigarettes you keep in your jacket pocket you think that I don’t know about?”

 

“Uh…” 

 

“I need them,” she said, the insistence in her tone enough to make Niko procure the cigarettes for her without further protest. 

 

Eve snatched the crumpled carton from his hand.

 

“Thanks. Nice to meet you, Gemma,” she rushed to say as she rushed towards the auditorium doors, feeling like her emotions might burst forth in the form of a scream or a pitiful sob if she didn’t get away from them as fast as she could. 

 

I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, I’ll fucking kill you for doing this to me, Eve thought, her hands trembling as she struggled to pull a cigarette out of the carton and up to her lips. 

 

She didn’t smoke. She didn’t even have a lighter.

 

Shit. 

 

Someone cleared their throat behind her. Eve spun around, startled, and, as if this night weren’t bad enough, she saw none other than Anna standing on the opposite side of the double doors, a lit cigarette in her mouth. She held out her lighter to Eve. Eve took it gratefully, trying not to make eye contact with the woman she had imagined herself murdering for the better part of the week. 

 

“I’m um, I’m Niko’s wife,” Eve offered.

 

What the fuck, she thought. What the fuck, Eve? Why would you introduce yourself? Why would you let her know who you are? How does that help you at all? 

 

“Oh! I didn’t know he...I thought…” Anna cleared her throat uncomfortably. “It’s nice to meet you,” Anna replied, her accent softer, less articulate than Oksana’s. “Niko is a really great teacher. His students all seem to love him.” 

 

“Oh, good. Good.” Eve said, entirely unsure of how to string together normal sentences at the moment. 

 

It took a few tries, but Eve managed to steady her hand long enough to spark a light. She brought the cigarette to her mouth, pulling from it as the small flame licked at the end of the disgusting little cancer stick. Smoke filled her mouth and lungs. She fought past the urge to cough her guts out, her eyes watering from the effort. She handed the lighter back, a small cough escaping her nonetheless. 

 

“I’m Anna.”

 

Yes, I fucking know that, Eve thought. 

 

“Nice to meet you. You’re, uh, another teacher?”

 

Of course she was, Eve, Jesus Christ, she continued to inwardly berate herself.

 

“Yes. I teach languages.”

 

“Cool. Cool.” 

 

God, just,  _ talk to her like a normal person. _

 

“Is, um, is your spouse here? Or am I the only one who felt the need to tag along with my husband tonight?” 

 

“No, my...my wife is inside. She’s the tall blonde in the suit.” 

 

“Oh,” Eve replied, pretending to seem surprised. “Wow. She’s...well, she’s a bit younger than you, isn’t she?” 

 

Anna smiled in reply. It was a smile that was strained but familiar to Anna’s face in a way that made Eve think she must be asked that question a lot. 

 

“Yes, she is. It’s a long story.” 

 

“I...I didn’t mean to pry. Good for you though, she’s...she’s beautiful.” 

 

At least that was easy enough for Eve to say. 

 

Anna laughed dryly. 

 

“I know. That’s the problem.” 

 

“What do you mean?” Eve asked, taking another pull of her horrendous cigarette. 

 

“She has always been beautiful. And charming. And entirely too much for someone like me to handle.” 

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Anna brought her cigarette to her lips, her eyes resting on something Eve couldn’t see. A memory, perhaps.

 

“It’s easy to forget just how much ‘forever’ entails, isn’t it? One moment it means a quiet life with a nice man who treats you well, and the next it means struggling from day to day to keep up with someone who is too young, too impulsive, too full of life and chaos for you to manage.” 

 

Eve blinked, unable to think of anything to say. 

 

Anna sighed, shaking her head. 

 

“I must sound terrible to you. I love Oksana. More than anything. But I’m tired. Tired of trying to reinvent myself again and again to fit the image of me she’s made in her mind. I left my husband for her, I moved here for her, I’ve tried everything to keep her happy because... _ God _ . When she’s happy, she’s the axis your whole world spins on. But when she’s not...it’s like trying to fill a black hole. Nothing is ever enough. Does that make sense?” 

 

What the fuck was Eve supposed to say to  _ that _ ? 

 

“I’m not enough for her anymore. I can feel it. Just this week, she got angry with me, and just...left. She came back, eventually. But when she did, she just expected me to be happy to see her again. She didn’t understand why I was angry with her! Can you believe that?” 

 

Eve was staring stupidly at Anna, wondering how to respond. Her instinct was to defend Oksana. But what was the point of that? All it would do is make Eve seem more involved in the situation than she should be. And it was hard at just this moment to find a way to defend Oksana. Up until now Eve had only ever heard her side of the story. And she had made Anna out to be a cold hearted monster. But nothing about this woman seemed cold. She seemed...lost, helpless, and sad. So...who was Eve supposed to believe? 

 

“You know,” Eve said, “I remember on my wedding day, Niko and I were sitting at the head table. Everyone was keeping us from eating dinner by coming up to give their congratulations. It made me crazy. I hadn’t eaten all day. But the one person who came up, one of Niko’s best friends at the time, didn’t congratulate us. He only said that ‘Marriage is the hardest thing you will ever do, and I hope you’re prepared to fight.’ I thought it was a nasty thing to say to a newly married couple. He divorced his wife a year after that. But I’ve thought about that a lot since then. And  I never decided if he was right or if he just married the wrong person. You know?”

 

Eve had no idea why she said that. But it had been said, so all she could do was accept it and wonder how Anna would respond.

 

“Right,” Anna said, straightening, and flicking her spent cigarette aside. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m divulging all my marital problems to you.” 

 

“Did you drink the punch?” Eve asked.

 

“Well, yes...why?”

 

“Rookie mistake.” 

 

The two women laughed together. Eve felt terribly uneasy. She wondered if her, and by extension, Oksana’s, perception of Anna had been...wrong. 

 

And did that mean that Eve could be wrong about Niko, too? Could all this just be a misunderstanding? And even if it wasn’t, even if he was cheating on her, was that enough for Eve to be willing to rid him from this Earth? 

 

“I, um, I should head back inside. It was nice to meet you, Anna.” 

 

“You, too. Sorry, I...I didn’t catch your name.” 

 

Eve felt her throat tighten.

 

“It’s Eve.”

 

“Eve. Go enjoy yourself.” 

 

Eve nodded silently, and let herself back into the auditorium. 

 

Her eyes found Niko almost immediately. He and Gemma were still together. Her hand was on his forearm. She was laughing heartily at something he had said. She leaned in close to him, so close their lips almost brushed. Niko reached out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. It was intimate, it was familiar…

 

Mother.

 

_ Fucker _ .

 

Before Eve could charge towards them and unleash her pent up fury in whatever way it decided to manifest itself, someone grabbed her hand, and pulled her away. She looked to see Oksana dragging her down the hallway adjacent to the doors. She let herself be led, feeling numb and white hot with fury all at the same time. 

 

Oksana pushed open the nearest door to the right in the hallway, and pulled Eve inside. 

 

“Hey,” she said, “Are you okay? You seem…” 

 

“That woman with Niko. She’s...she…”

 

Oksana’s eyes widened.

 

“Oh. That’s her, huh?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You’re sure?”

 

“Pretty fucking sure,” Eve said through gritted teeth.

 

“Wow. What an idiot.”

 

“Which one?” Eve asked.

 

“Well, I mean, both of them, but, Jesus, how can he look at you when you look like  _ that _ and still even be able to look at her?” 

 

“I-” Eve felt suddenly insecure in the dress Oksana had bought her. “Where are we?” 

 

“Uh…” Oksana looked around at their surroundings, which consisted of a couple of brooms, some stacks of paper and scantrons, and other generic school supplies. “Supply closet?” 

 

“Great,” Eve spat. “Just great. My husband is out there showing off his affair to all of his coworkers, and I’m hiding out in a supply closet.”

 

“Well. I considered letting you go over there to beat him up, or whatever you planned on doing, but I thought it would be better of you not to make a scene. You know, so when he ends up dead, no one will be suspicious, you know?” 

 

“Right,” Eve said, remembering. “Yeah.” 

 

“What? What is it?” 

 

“Nothing, I...I forgot, I guess.” 

 

Eve was lying. 

 

“You’re lying.”

 

Damn. 

 

“Fine,” Eve said. “I guess it’s just. Ugh. He makes me so  _ mad _ I wish I could kill him myself.” 

 

“But you can’t, or you’ll get caught.”

 

“I know, I know.” Eve was suddenly very frustrated, about  _ everything _ . “Where have you been all week? I’ve…” 

 

Missed you, Eve thought. I’ve missed you. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Oksana said in a quiet, soothing voice, taking Eve’s hands in her own and considering them with gentle strokes of her fingers, mapping them. “Something came up, I...I had to go home for a little while. It couldn’t be helped.” 

 

“Anna said…” Eve began. 

 

Oksana’s face contorted upon hearing her wife’s name.

 

“You spoke to Anna?” 

 

“Yes. I ran into her outside.”

 

“What did she say?” Oksana asked, her voice half curious and half infuriated. 

 

“That you left town because you were mad at her.” 

 

“Hah!” Oksana said, and then prattled off in what sounded like French for a few furious seconds. “She is such a…” she let out a calming sigh. “It’s fine. I’m not surprised. We got into a fight, I left. She never bothered to ask if there was anything else going on. She never does.” 

 

“What  _ is _ going on?” Eve asked. “Are you okay?” 

 

Oksana smiled, releasing one of Eve’s hands so she could move a stray hair away from Eve’s face. 

 

“Oh, Eve,” she whispered. “I have missed you. God, you are so beautiful.” 

 

Eve blushed deeply. 

 

“That suit it...it looks good on you. Like, annoyingly good.”

 

Oksana shrugged, a knowing smirk forming on her lips.

 

“This...this dress has to be expensive. I can’t accept it.” 

 

Oksana laughed.

 

“You are already wearing it, Eve.” 

 

“Well, I...” 

 

Shit.

 

“It’s okay,” Oksana said. “Please keep it. It suits you. Are you…” she leaned in close to Eve, closer than Eve thought she could handle. “Are you wearing the perfume I gave you?” 

 

“Y-yes,” Eve struggled. 

 

Oksana smiled, her eyes glittering, her mouth so close to Eve’s that Eve was incredibly tempted to do something about it. 

 

“Good.” 

 

Eve found her hands moving as if they were out of her control as they moved to grasp the lapels of Oksana’s open jacket. She tugged on them slightly, tightening her grip on them enough that she could have pulled Oksana to her if she wanted to, but she didn’t. Her eyes slowly moved up to meet Oksana’s, who was looking at her with her mouth partly agape, an eyebrow quirked upwards in an open question to Eve. 

 

“I feel like I’m turning invisible to him, Oksana. I feel like if I left right now, he wouldn’t even notice I’d gone,” Eve said sadly. 

 

“I would notice,” Oksana breathed. “I  _ see _ you, Eve. I have since the moment we met.” 

 

“I think I know what you mean,” Eve replied, still gripping Oksana’s jacket as if it was the only thing holding her together. 

 

“We don’t need them anymore, Eve. We could…” Oksana broke her gaze with Eve to look around the cramped supply closet. “Ugh. This is  _ wrong _ . This isn’t what I pictured…”

 

“What did-” Eve began.

 

“I need to see you soon.  _ Alone _ . Okay?”  

 

“Um.” Eve struggled to think clearly. “I think Niko and I were supposed to have dinner with friends tomorrow, but…I could get out of it.”

 

“Good. Yes. Tomorrow. Okay.” Oksana looked around the closet, then grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, scribbling something onto it, and then handing it to Eve. “Meet me at this address at seven.”

 

Eve took the paper, once again admiring Oksana’s beautiful handwriting. 

 

“What, um, what should I wear?” she asked. 

 

Oksana smiled, something dark flashing across her eyes. 

 

“Surprise me,” she said, and then, with a wink, she exited the supply closet and went to rejoin her wife at the party.

 

Eve took a moment to catch her breath.

 

Holy shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God this chapter was a fucking BEAST. I could have probably tore it apart and recreated it fifteen times and still not been happy with it. But. Whatever. The party probably isn't even done yet, V probably has to find something sassy to say to Niko before she leaves, but we'll get to that. For now, enjoy! 
> 
> I can't say enough how much I love you guys for reading and commenting and generally being v cool people. I love you as much as I love these two crazy hotties. 
> 
> Come chat on tumblr (@ schatzietess) and let me know what you think! The fun think about WIPs is if you tell me what your ideas on the story are I might be like OH SHIT U RIGHT and change my game plan entirely. 
> 
> For now I'm thinking these two might have some pent up frustration to vent out onto each other when they meet again...*a-wink*
> 
> Have a great week!  
> -Tess


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haven't updated in awhile, so here's a long one to make up for it. This chapter is one part me projecting my ass off, one part marital woes, and one part slow-burn wounds. Enjoy ;)

Eve took a moment to compose herself within the quiet, stuffy supply closet. She could feel that her cheeks were flushed. She had to get back to the party before Niko noticed she was missing. If he even would notice, considering he was busy openly flirting with his...well…

 

She didn’t like the words that came to mind when she thought of Gemma. But they were the most accurate terms she could think of. 

 

Oh well. She would blame the flushed cheeks on the alcohol. No one would be the wiser.

 

After all, who would ever suspect such a thing? Who would ever guess that Eve and Oksana knew each other, much less spent stolen moments together in supply closets? That was the beauty of it all. The unpredictability of their relationship...whatever their relationship was. Eve knew what she wanted it to be, and she was almost certain by now that Oksana wanted the same thing, but...could they really go there? It was bad enough they were actively plotting the murders of their spouses together. Would it be that much of a stretch for them to cross another line together? 

 

Eve hoped they would, despite all rational thought screaming inside her head against it. 

 

She took a soothing breath, and opened the door. The crappy pop music playing from a spotify playlist on someone’s bluetooth speaker filled her ears. God, school functions were terrible. She walked down the hall and out into the auditorium, looking around for Niko so they could get the hell out of there before Eve did anything  _ really _ impulsive.

 

Her eyes finally landed on him, and she saw him talking to…

 

Oh, no.

 

Eve speed walked over to Niko as nonchalantly as she could manage so that she could interrupt whatever the hell Oksana thought she was pulling by talking to him. Oksana was facing away from Eve as she stood opposite Niko, her hands in her pockets, confident, stunning, and absolutely up to no good.

 

Oksana laughed heartily at something Niko said just as Eve stepped between the two of them.

 

“You are so funny!” Oksana complimented Niko in response to whatever she had said. Eve could tell by her tone of voice that Oksana was full of shit.

 

Eve cleared her throat, facing Niko, her back now to Oksana. 

 

“Honey, you just about ready to go?” she asked, her voice high pitched and strained.

 

“But we barely just got here,” Niko began to protest. 

 

“I know that, darling,” Eve said through gritted teeth. “But I’m suddenly not feeling so well…”

 

“Is this your wife?” Oksana asked sweetly, inserting herself into their conversation. “Well she is just  _ stunning _ .” 

 

Eve spun around, mouthing ‘ _ stop it _ ’ to Oksana before standing next to her husband, maintaining a warning look.

 

“Oh, Eve, this is, uh,” Niko began.

 

“Oksana,” she supplied, offering a hand for Eve to shake, as if the two women had genuinely never met. She was quite the actress. “I’m Anna’s wife. You know, it’s odd, I’ve heard so much about the wonderful Mr. Polastri, the school’s best maths teacher, yet I would have never guessed you were married! And then I saw you talking so intimately with that woman...and I thought that perhaps you were just a scruffy bachelor looking for an interdepartmental shag. But now,  _ well _ , I suppose you must just be the luckiest man in the world to have such a beautiful wife at your side. Don’t you agree, Niko?”

 

Niko blinked, unable to process all the jabs and compliments she had doled out in one rapid fire monologue. Eve only continued to glare at her. Though, really, she was a bit appreciative of her ability to disarm Niko so effectively. 

 

“Well, of course, I am. Very lucky indeed.” Niko looked to his wife. “Sorry, dear, you said you weren’t feeling well?”

 

“Right. Right. Not well at all. Just  _ terrible _ . I think I’m coming down with something. And we can’t be spreading that to the whole school, now can we? So, it was nice to meet you, uh, Oksana, but, um,” she feigned a cough. “We’ve got to go.”

 

Oksana raised a knowing eyebrow at Eve, masking it so well behind a facade of concern that only Eve could see through it. Like a camera coming into focus, Eve looked behind Oksana, to see Anna, alone, downing a gin and tonic with a shaky hand. 

 

“You sure you don’t want to stick around, Eve? I would love to get to know you better,” Oksana said. 

 

Eve narrowed her eyes at Oksana. She knew that she was a spitfire, but she had never felt the heat from her burn quite like this until now. 

 

“I’m sure. Why don’t you go back to your  _ wife _ ? She looks lonely.”

 

Oksana’s face contorted into annoyance, or anger, for a flickering second, before she painted on a smile, shaking her head like Eve had just cracked an amusing joke. 

 

“Well we can’t have that, now, can we? It was nice to meet you, Eve. Have a good night.” 

 

Eve nodded silently, and tried to make herself look miserable for Niko’s sake. After he made a few “necessary” goodbyes, conveniently skipping over Gemma, who was watching him closely all the while, he led his suddenly ill wife back to their car. 

 

The ride home was mostly silent. Niko seemed tense. Eve felt like she was boiling over inside, for reasons other than a fake sickness. 

 

They walked into their home, Niko a few steps behind Eve as she shuffled up to the bedroom and out of the dress Oksana had bought her. She sighed in relief as it slipped off her shoulders and pooled on the floor. It was like removing Oksana herself, and the intoxicating grip she held on Eve. 

 

Eve pulled on some comfy sweatpants and an oversized shirt, preparing for a restless night of wrestling with her desires and deciding if she would meet with Oksana tomorrow or not. Niko approached the doorway of the bedroom, looking Eve over as she slipped into bed. 

 

“Eve?” he asked tentatively. 

 

“Yes, darling?” she said in a falsely hoarse voice. 

 

“Well, um. It’s a bit early, yet. And I thought, that, if you think you’ll be alright by yourself, that I might pop back over to the school. If nothing else, some of the other teachers were planning to reconvene at the pub after things had wrapped up.” 

 

Eve blinked at him.

 

“That is, only if you’re okay with that. If you need me here…” he faltered.

 

Eve had to force herself not to roll her eyes at his empty gesture of caring for her. It was bullshit. They both knew it. 

 

“No. I’m fine. Please, go,” she said.

 

“You sure?” 

 

“I’m sure,” she said through a pained smile. 

 

Niko nodded, and walked to her side of the bed. 

 

“Right. Thanks, sweetheart. Love you,” he said, kissing her temple. 

 

Eve flinched. 

 

“You too,” she said, her voice hollow. 

 

Niko threw his jacket back on and headed downstairs. She heard the front door click softly as he left. And then Eve was all alone with her thoughts, wishing she was anything other than alone in her bedroom at 9:30 on a Friday night. She wondered if it would have been better if she had stuck around the party, playing Oksana’s game, as hot and dangerous as it was. 

 

It seemed that those were the only two options left in Eve’s life. To play Oksana’s game, or to be bored and alone. 

 

She wondered if Oksana would still be there when Niko got back to the school. She wondered if she would watch him, like a lioness stalking its prey. She wondered if Oksana would pinpoint his weaknesses and use them to derive a plan of how to bring about his undoing. She wondered how much more seriously she took their murder pact than Eve did.

 

Of course, it was entirely possible that Niko wasn’t even going to back to the school. The way Gemma had looked at him as they left, it seemed as though they had made plans of their own while Eve and Oksana were making plans of their own. 

 

The plan Eve didn’t even know if she could go through with now. 

 

She settled into bed uneasily.

 

Who was she kidding? Of course she would. 

 

*

 

Eve tossed. And turned. And could not get to sleep. Minutes turned to hours. Her frustrations grew and grew. When would Niko be home? God, she didn’t even want him to come home. Not really. It’s not like she enjoyed his company anymore. It’s not like she didn’t enjoy having the bed all to herself. But Eve also knew she couldn’t find any sort of restful sleep if she knew that eventually he would come bursting home, loudly, and wake her up. So the anxiety of waiting for the inevitable rude wake up call kept her from sleep altogether, and made her angry at him for having gone out at all. 

 

Eve groaned. 

 

She padded downstairs and poured herself a glass of wine.

 

She drank two sips of it before feeling too tired and too high strung to want to keep drinking. 

 

Eve went back upstairs. 

 

The bedsheets seemed like a suffocating prospect. She sat on top of them, biting her thumbnail.

 

She grabbed her laptop and looked up some of the names of the unsolved murders she’d come across during her filing at work. 

 

Eve tilted her head disapprovingly at the related news reports and what little they had to offer. Where was the blood? The gore? The drama of the crime scenes? How did news stations manage to make homicide look so  _ boring _ ? 

 

If Eve killed someone, she would make it sensational. The kind of kill that would fill newspaper headlines for weeks, months even. The kind that would prompt news anchors to tell the audience to usher their kids into another room, to spare them the trauma of hearing about what she had done in all it’s gritty detail. 

 

If you’re gonna do something, do it properly. 

 

Eve snapped her laptop shut with a cracking emphasis, tossing it onto Niko’s side of the bed. She felt so restless. She wished she could call Oksana, tell her that she was a little shit, and then tell her about how she thought that stabbing Anna in the femoral artery would make a very satisfying amount of blood. If that was something she wanted to know.

 

Eve imagined herself doing it. She imagined Anna pulling a drag from her cigarette. Pictured her lamenting to Eve about her marriage woes, confiding in her in an unexpected friendship. She pictured asking Anna for a smoke. Imagined her looking down into her purse, as as she did, she imagined herself pulling out a knife, and plunging it into Anna. Her eyes would snap up at Eve in surprise, blood gushing from her. And when she did…

 

She suddenly imagined Niko’s face instead of Anna’s. Saw him clutching the wound, looking at Eve with shock and terror. She pictured Gemma rushing to his aid, only to be drenched in his blood as he faded away.

 

She shook the image out of her head.

 

Jesus, Eve. 

 

*

 

The last time Eve had checked her phone it was a quarter til one in the morning, and Niko was still not home. Eve was furious. How dare he enjoy himself while his wife was home sick? She jumped at every small noise. Every passing car was his finally pulling into the driveway. Every creak of the house settling was him walking through the door. And yet, it never was. Eve found herself holding the piece of paper Villanelle had handed her, clenching it in her fist. She bit the inside of her cheek. 

 

Eve wondered if Anna ever felt this way, on those nights when Oksana would go out without her. Then she wondered if, in some universe in which Oksana was married to Eve and not Anna, if it would look the same, as strained and broken. 

 

As if that would ever happen.

 

But still. She had to accept that almost every broken relationship had two culprits. And the way that Oksana carried herself: her impulsiveness, her games, her attitude, her manic energy...it all had to have contributed to how they had crumbled. 

 

What had Eve done to bring her marriage to this point, she wondered? How had she contributed to Niko finding someone else to pay attention to, to flirt with, to fuck?

 

...Oh, screw that. Niko was a cheating asshole and Eve was a  _ great _ wife. 

 

The front door clicked open and shut. For real this time. Eve felt her stomach drop as if she might be caught in the middle of doing something wrong. As if she hadn’t just been laying around all night waiting for her shit husband to come home. Eve waited for him to come upstairs. And waited.

 

And waited. 

 

What the fuck was he doing? 

 

Eve had long since banished her cell phone to her nightstand drawer so she could resist sending a barrage of condescending and angry texts to him to guilt him into coming home, so she had no idea what time it was. Time this late at night, time passed differently than during the day. A minute was an hour when you didn’t want it to be, and an hour was mere seconds when you wished the evening would last forever.

 

Eve didn’t know what she wanted this night to be, didn’t know how the unattainable need for sleep was affecting it, so time was wildly unpredictable. Niko could have come home five or fifteen minutes ago. She couldn’t know. Had he even come home, or had she hallucinated hearing him come home entirely? 

 

Or maybe it wasn’t Niko at all. Maybe a serial killer had snuck into her home. 

 

Now  _ that _ would be interesting.

 

With a frustrated sigh, Eve got out of bed and huffed her way down the stairs, ready to confront Niko or a murderer with the same tone of annoyance over the inconvenience of the late hour. 

 

She checked the downstairs bathroom. And then the kitchen. No Niko. Confused, she turned to check the study, stopping in her tracks when she heard a long, gravelly snore coming from the living room. She approached the room, and saw a foot sticking out from the end of the couch that faced away from her. She moved closer, and saw Niko, in a deep sleep, still fully clothed, snoring in a way he only did when he was piss drunk. 

 

Eve scowled. She moved to the window next to the front door, and saw Niko’s car parked crooked in the driveway. 

 

He had driven himself home while drunk. 

 

Eve was filled with anger that started in the pit of her stomach and bubbled up into the back of her throat like suffocating bile. She stormed back to the living room, looking down on her reckless husband, still passed out. 

 

“Niko,” she said in a stern voice. 

 

He didn’t respond. Didn’t even stir. 

 

“Niko!” she said louder. 

 

Still nothing. 

 

Frustrated, she slapped his cheek, once, twice, three times, until he roused.

 

“Hey!” she yelled. 

 

“What?” he asked, still half in a booze induced dream.

 

“You gonna sleep down here all night or are you gonna come to bed?”

 

“I am in bed,” he mumbled, and passed back out. 

 

Eve shook her head, seething with anger. She knelt down next to him, considering slapping him again out of spite. His breath reeked of alcohol. A passing car’s headlights shone through the front window, illuminating his features for a moment as it passed. There was lipstick smeared on his lips. They twitched into a smile as he slept. 

 

“Unbelievable,” she spat, and stormed back up the stairs. 

 

She lunged back into her bed, sprawling out onto his side of the bed in some sad attempt at a protest of his reckless actions. After a moment, the tension in her head and muscles relaxed. Being able to focus and justify her anger into something real and tangible and recent was relieving. It was somehow enough to strip her of the burdens and anxieties of it until she collapsed into a deep sleep, her last thought a half created script of just exactly how she would lecture him the next morning. 

 

*

 

Eve tapped her fingers rapidly against her mug of coffee the next morning, as she waited for Niko to emerge from the shower like she was preparing to interrogate a witness. He was already in the bathroom when she had come downstairs, meaning that she had missed her opportunity to catch him with lipstick still on his mouth. It infuriated her to no end that she had missed her chance. But she was still going to yell, dammit. 

 

She stayed perfectly still, rigid, when he emerged and walked through his Saturday morning routine in the kitchen, stepping around her as he grabbed a mug and poured a cup of coffee. 

 

“How you feeling, darling?” he asked.

 

“Don’t,” she spat. 

 

“What?” he asked.

 

She looked at him, eyes like daggers, mouth filling with proverbial venom.

 

“Just how drunk were you when you drove yourself home last night? And be honest.” 

 

Niko sighed, knowing he couldn’t lie. 

 

“I shouldn’t have driven,” he admitted.

 

“No shit.” 

 

“Eve…” he began, half apologetic, half placating, as if it didn’t even matter.

 

“Look,” she said. “It is one thousand times easier for me to forgive you for asking me to get out of bed and drive you home than it would be to forgive you for getting someone killed by being a selfish dick.” 

 

“Look,” he said, rubbing the impending hangover away from his temple. “I’m sorry. It was a stupid thing to do, and it won’t happen again. Okay?” 

 

“Whatever,” Eve grumbled into her coffee mug. 

 

“What?” Niko pressed, annoyed. “It’s not like you and I haven’t had plenty of nights out that got a little out of hand.” 

 

“Yeah, but I never got behind the wheel after.”

 

“Of course not! I’m always the designated driver, aren’t I? You can always get as drunk as you want because you know I’ll take you home.” 

 

“And that makes it okay that you put yourself and other people in danger?” 

 

“No! It doesn’t! I just...I’m just saying.”

 

“Well don’t _just_ _say_. Don’t. You got to have your fun last night, and that’s all that matters, right?”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Niko asked, subconsciously rubbing his palm over his lips, perhaps wondering if he had gotten all the lipstick off. 

 

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” Eve seethed. “Anyhow, I wanted to let you know that you’ll have to go to dinner with the Castor’s alone tonight.”

 

“What? Why?” 

 

Eve looked at him, expressionless.

 

“I’m still sick.”

 

Niko furrowed his brow.

 

“You are? You don’t seem…”

 

“Well, I am. You know, diarrhea and stuff.”

 

“Oh. Yikes…”

 

“Yeah,” Eve lied. “It’s gross. So. Can’t go. Sorry.” 

 

“Okay. Alright. Well, we need some groceries, so, I guess I’ll just go to the store myself, then.”

 

“Cool, have fun,” Eve said, putting all her effort into not restarting their fight becuase dammit she was still mad. 

 

Instead, she considered it a small victory when she marched up the stairs with her coffee and toast and went back to the bedroom, leaving him with his thoughts and a pad and paper for a grocery list. 

 

Married fights were all about claiming the best room to occupy, like territories between battling nations: impenetrable to the other person until you were done being mad at them. The bedroom was always Eve’s choice. Her laptop was there, her cozy bed was there, her stash of snacks was there. Niko could continue to enjoy his scratchy couch in the living room for a while longer. 

 

Although. If he was going shopping that meant good,  _ new _ snacks…

 

Eve would just have to expand her territory to the kitchen when he got back.

 

*

 

It was around 5 pm. Eve was trying, a little, to maintain the appearance of being sick, even though she didn’t imagine that she was selling it that well. But still, there was no way that she was going to go to the Castor’s for dinner. Nights out with Niko’s friends required Eve to appear to be a happy, doting wife so they wouldn’t talk shit about her behind her back. And Eve was not capable of that right now. 

 

Still, Niko, who had otherwise avoided Eve for most of the day (exercise in passive aggression and guilt from his stupid mistake the night before) came up to the bedroom where Eve was hiding out before he left. 

 

“You sure you don’t want to go?” he asked.

 

“It’s really best I stay,” Eve said, too enthusiastically. “You know, becuase of all the gross stomach bug stuff.” 

 

“Right,” Niko said with a tired sigh. “Look, again, I’m sorry about last night. It was stupid, and immature, and reckless, and…”

 

She wished she could pretend that he was apologizing for more than his drunken state. She wished he would just own up to what he was doing, and beg her, on his knees, for her forgiveness, desperate from the fear of losing her. 

 

“I know you’re sorry, okay? It’s...it’s fine. Just, forget about it. Go catch up with your friends. And tell them I’m sorry I couldn’t make it.” 

 

“Yeah, I will,” he said, and went back down the stairs. 

 

Their usual goodbye “I love you” was skipped over. 

 

The second she heard the front door close, she leapt out of bed like a kid that had been waiting all day for her parents to leave so she could enjoy playing hookie. Eve reached into her nightstand and grabbed the now crumpled paper Oksana had given her, plugging the address into her phone. She had been tempted to look it up a thousand times up until now, but she had resisted the urge in some silly way to build suspense. 

 

The google search loaded...and…

 

It was a hotel. A really nice looking hotel.

 

Oh. Shit. 

 

*

 

Eve paced back and forth in her room. Oksana didn’t think that...she hadn’t been implying that they would…

 

Had she? She tried to remember what Oksana had said in the supply closet. They had been close. Eve had been gripping Oksana’s suit jacket. 

 

_ “I need to see you soon. Alone,”  _ she had said.

 

Eve gulped.

 

But it didn’t matter what Oksana thought might happen. It mattered that Eve was the one choosing to meet her. She was in control. She could walk away whenever she wanted to, put up whatever boundaries she chose. Where, exactly, would her boundaries be in a situation where she might find herself in a hotel room alone with Oksana? 

 

Come on, Eve, there had to be some you can think of...you’re not just going to let Oksana do whatever she wants with you...are you? 

 

Eve shook her head, hoping her intrusive thoughts might fall out of it through the tossing of her hair. They were just meeting up to talk and, you know, plan a murder or two.

 

Becuase  _ that _ was better.

 

Eve felt like she was slipping into some sort of madness. One minute she was questioning Oksana, seeing her from a more realistic perspective, questioning her true motives based on facts. Like the fact that she had ditched her wife for a week without an explanation, one point in a clear history of her avoiding and neglecting her wife. And the next, Oksana was asking for Eve to spend a night with her in a hotel, and suddenly all of Eve’s doubts were pushed away and replaced by a giddy excitement, a need to be close to her. She knew it was happening. She knew that she was actively avoiding all the warning signs that were glaring at her in flashing neon lights…

 

But she just couldn’t stop herself from avoiding them.

 

Suddenly nothing in Eve’s closet was good enough for the occasion. It was all sweaters and business casual wear. She thought about wearing the dress again, the one that Oksana had bought her. But she wanted Oksana to think that she owned something fashionable of her own, and that she wasn’t in constant need of someone else to make decisions for her. She sighed, throwing the clothes on the rack to one side of the closet dramatically, and spotted something in the back corner. A blue dress she had forgotten about. She’d bought it for a wedding she’d gone to with Niko a few years ago. It wasn’t terrible…

 

It would have to do. 

 

After spending a ridiculous amount of time getting ready, most of it just Eve fretting over her life decisions up to this point, she stood in front of her bathroom mirror, biting the inside of her cheek, her eyes searching for flaws. She had on black flats (not too fancy, just in case she was misreading the situation), a blue dress (it was missing  _ something _ but she didn’t know what), no bra (discomforting but necessary), red lipstick,  and the perfume Oksana had bought her applied delicately to her pulse points (god she wanted to bathe in the stuff it smelled so good)…

 

Okay, Eve decided resolutely. She could work with this. 

 

She checked her phone. It was ten to seven. 

 

“Shit,” Eve muttered, and her urgent need to not be late dashed away any last minute anxieties her brain was trying to conjure up. 

 

*

 

The cab pulled up to its destination. Eve’s heart was pounding, her stomach turning so much she thought she might actually be getting sick. The hotel was one of those places that looked like it was straight out of an old movie. It was massive, elegant, glittering with old fashioned lamp light, and probably cost more to rent a room for a night than her monthly mortgage. She gripped her clutch bag with white knuckles. 

 

She’d made it this far. She wasn’t going back now. 

 

And attendant in a red suit opened the door for her, ushering her in towards marble floors, tall columns, and mock Grecian sculptures. She looked around, anxious. Where the hell was Oksana? 

 

Directly in front of Eve across the entryway was a large, sleek black desk, tall enough to make her feel inferior as she approached it. A tall man with a perfectly tailored suit and clean cut black hair smiled at her from the opposite side of it. His smile was almost sympathetic, as if he knew that she was out of place. 

 

“Evening, ma’am,” he said in a thick british accent. “What can I do for you?” 

 

“Um, I uh,” she struggled. “I’m looking for…”

 

Shit. She didn’t know Oksana’s last name. 

 

“I...I’m looking for someone. I…”

 

“Eve?” a familiar voice called to her left.

 

Oh, thank God. 

 

Eve turned, and sighed in relief at the familiar face. Oksana strode up to the counter, leaning against it, and looking Eve over. She was wearing a long pink suit jacket, wildly colorful floral print pants, and a white t-shirt with a large pair of lips printed on it. Eve felt relieved that she looked, well, phenomenal, as always, but not quite fresh off the red carpet. At least Eve didn’t feel underdressed. 

 

“Why are you at the front desk?” Oksana asked her, and then quirked an eyebrow up at her playfully. “Did you think I got us a room? Eve,” she teased. “You are so presumptuous.” 

 

“I…” Eve began, but wasn’t able to find an end to her sentence. 

 

“Come on, let me buy you a drink,” she said. “Thank you, Andrew,” she said to the desk clerk with a familiar wink.

 

Oksana led Eve to the far side of the hotel bar, which was a large wrap around, giving the illusion of privacy for them despite the bustle of a busy Saturday night. 

 

“Do you come here often?” Eve asked, surprised at how comfortable she seemed here, and how she seemed to know the staff’s names. 

 

Oksana shrugged.

 

“I like hotel bars. You don’t run into people you don’t want to, since it’s mostly frequented by travelers and tourists. And,” she said as she took a sip of her drink, smiling with satisfaction. “This is the only place in the city where you can get decent vodka.” 

 

Eve smiled, the tension in her neck and shoulders washing away as she sucked down her drink. It was strange how Oksana always made her feel so comfortable in her own skin. Something in the way her gaze lingered on her that bolstered her confidence.

 

“So,” Oksana continued. “Playing hookie tonight, hmm?” 

 

Eve laughed quietly. 

 

“Somehow I think this beats dinner with Niko’s friends. Especially when it’s the Castor’s. They have a cat who has it out for me.” 

 

“Not a cat person?” 

 

“I am, normally. Just...not that cat,” she said, shuddering at memories of that feral little fluffball that always managed to sneak up on her out of  _ nowhere _ . “You’re right, by the way,” she said, sipping at her drink. “This  _ is _ good vodka.” 

 

“Mm, I knew I’d lure you away from your gin and tonics eventually. The booze is the only thing about Russia I miss. God, one of my earliest memories was drinking kvas out of sippy cup on New Year’s Eve. You can’t find good kvas around here.” 

 

Eve cleared her throat, remembering Oksana’s sudden and prolonged disappearance.

 

“Why did you go back to Russia? Did something happen?” 

 

The small smile on Oksana’s face vanished, her eyes searched through something beyond the two of them and the hotel bar altogether. 

 

“My father died.” 

 

Eve’s breath caught in her throat. 

 

“Oh. Oh, God. I am...so sorry...I…”

 

Oksana held up a hand, and Eve went quiet.

 

“Don’t be. He was a  _ dreadful _ man. But I was his closest surviving relative, so I had to make the arrangements. And, anyway, there was a small lump of his inheritance left that he hadn’t squandered away, so I claimed it, had his body burned, and dumped his ashes into the sea.” Oksana smiled devilishly, seemingly quite proud of herself. “He  _ hated _ the sea, went green just looking at it. I hope he had sea sickness for the rest of eternity.” 

 

Eve blinked, shocked at the malice she seemed to have for her deceased father. She could only wonder at what he had done to make her resent him so. She dared not ask about it. 

 

“Does Anna know?” she asked instead. 

 

Oksana’s rolled her eyes.

 

“God, no. I wouldn’t have been able to stand her if I did. She knew about my father, about what kind of person he was. It only made her treat me like a victim. Like a damaged child. She still insists on psychoanalyzing everything I do. She acts more like a therapist than a wife sometimes. If I had told her she would have just wanted to talk and talk and  _ talk _ about it.” Oksana pretend to retch. “No. No way was I going to tell her.” 

 

Eve swirled her drink around in it’s glass, the ice clinking around softly. 

 

“So why did you tell me?” she asked tentatively, her eyes meeting Oksana’s.

 

Oksana gave her a coy smile. 

 

“Because I  _ like _ you, Eve. Haven’t you figured that out?” 

 

Eve could feel a blush creeping onto her cheeks. She suddenly wished that Oksana  _ had _ brought her to a hotel room, if only to grant them more privacy in what suddenly felt like a deeply intimate moment. 

 

But that damn common sense started tugging at the back of her head, pulling out of her trance.

 

“I realized tonight that I don’t even know you’re last name,” Eve said, testing the waters to see how much more she could get Oksana to divulge to her.

 

“I have something for you,” Oksana said, as if she hadn’t even heard Eve’s attempt at a question. 

 

She plunged a hand into one of her deep jacket pockets, and procured a small, boxy cell phone. The kind that should have stayed in the early 2000’s where it belonged. She placed it on the bar next to Eve’s drink. 

 

“I don’t like that I can’t talk to you whenever I want. So I got you this. I have a matching one, paid for in cash. Untraceable. So we can talk whenever we want. About  _ whatever _ we want.” 

 

There was a gravelly tone in the end of that sentence, one that promised beautiful and dangerous things. 

 

Oksana liked to talk, Eve had begun to notice. And whenever she got to talking, Eve got to listening, in a way that pulled her in, scrambled her thoughts, and left her hanging on Oksana’s every word.

 

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Oksana continued in a whisper, scooting her chair closer to Eve’s, her blonde hair tumbling forward from the effort in a way that brought the scent of her shampoo wafting to Eve’s nose like a siren call to her olfactory nerves. “About Niko.”

 

“Ugh,” Eve groaned, totally pulled out of the moment at the mention of her husband’s name. “Please don’t ruin this by making me talk about him.” 

 

“Why, what did he do now?” Oksana asked, a hint of agitation in her tone. 

 

Eve shook her head.

 

“Doesn’t matter.”

 

“Well, would me talking about how I’m going to kill him help at all?” 

 

And just like that, it was back. The thing that separated the two of them and their connection from something other than a blushing crush, to something darker, more dangerous, and infinitely more intoxicating…

 

“Maybe,” Eve breathed. 

 

“Good,” she said, polishing off her drink and setting the empty glass closer to the edge of the bar to be refilled by the bartender. “Becuase there was something that I noticed about him yesterday. Something useful.”

 

“What’s that?” 

 

“Well, he just doesn’t seem to see women as a threat. No matter who it is. He underestimates them, dismisses them. Any one, like myself, as I observed, can come up to him, and as long as they give him a smile, he sees nothing other than their beauty and their perceived innocence.” 

 

Eve pondered what she had said.

 

“But isn’t that the case with most people?” Eve replied. “You know, like when a small child gets lost in a grocery store, he approaches a woman, assuming she’ll show him the same kind of motherly care he’s used to and help him find his way. Or when a girl at a club feels unsafe around a man hitting on her, so she finds other women to retreat to to gain a sense of protection. It’s an innate truth of our nature to see women as nurturers. It’s why so many criminal women are able to fly under the radar for so long. People just...assume that women aren’t capable of the same kind of evil as men.” 

 

“Hmm...I suppose,” Oksana said carefully, as if something Eve had said had set her teeth on edge. “But the point remains the same. Someone like me could just...walk right up behind him, maybe touch him on the shoulder to get his attention,” Oksana reached over and placed a gentle hand on Eve’s shoulder. Eve tried not to shudder at the touch. “Maybe give him a smile, say something nice about his mustache. He would be caught off guard, in a good way, he would suppose. It isn’t often young women come up to him so confidently, not since he started wearing a wedding ring. Then I would move my hand...”

 

Oksana moved her hand, tracing over Eve’s collarbone with her index and middle finger, up her throat, until she gripped the back of Eve’s neck, softly at first, and then a little tighter, anchoring herself as she pulled herself closer to Eve. 

 

“He wouldn’t flinch away,” Oksana pressed. “He wouldn’t assume that anything was about to happen to him except something to further bolster his ego, further prove to him that he can have whatever he wants. A beautiful, unsuspecting wife, a good job, and a growing list of women outside of his marriage to keep his attention. And then…”

 

Oksana used her grip on Eve’s neck to pull her closer. Eve gasped quietly. She could feel her pulse pounding in her throat so strongly that she was sure Oksana could see it. Then, Oksana lowered her free hand from where it had been resting against the bar, down onto Eve’s knee, and then slunk its way up the hem of her dress until rested against Eve’s side, and as she moved to grip Eve’s waist a little more closely, Eve felt something else press against her stomach, something narrow and pointed…

 

She broke eye contact with Oksana and looked down, to find a small blade in Oksana’s hand, pressed against Eve’s stomach, posed to be plunged into her. 

 

Eve should have been scared. That would have been the normal reaction to find a knife pressed against you by someone you barely knew. Alas, Eve was learning that much of what she felt as of late was not normal at all. So, really, the new development only came as a mild surprise to her. Eve tilted her head, giving the blade another glance before she looked back up at Villanelle, whose pupils were now dilated and who had a smile forming on her lips. And Eve felt...

 

Smitten? 

 

No.

 

_ Obsessed _ .

“I did get a room, you know,” Oksana whispered, the hand on Eve’s neck beginning to tangle itself into her hair. “I wasn’t going to mention it unless I thought you were…” 

 

“Interested?” Eve finished for her. 

 

Eve leaned into the blade, just enough that the pressure began to hurt but not enough that it penetrated her skin. A heat began to form deep in the pit of her stomach, swirling together with the pain and forming a new, wholly captivating sensation. 

 

Oksana looked down at her grip on the knife, then back at Eve, her eyes conveying her next question for her. 

 

“Yes. I would be,” Eve said before she had considered the consequences of her response. 

 

Oksana grinned, biting her lower lip, and she pulled the blade away from Eve’s stomach, tucking it away in an unseen pocket in her jacket from where it had likely been procured. 

 

“Good,” she said, her eyes flicking down to Eve’s lips, and then up to the bar. 

 

Oksana pulled away from Eve so that she could settle the bill with the bartender, and Eve felt a sudden chill from their lack of closeness. She downed the remains of her drink for courage, and then grabbed her phone and her purse, prepared to go wherever Oksana led her; to do whatever she asked of her. 

 

If only Niko hadn’t chosen that exact moment to call her. 

 

Eve’s stomach dropped. She considered leaving it be and pretending he didn’t exist for just one night. But she knew how cross he got when Eve didn’t answer her phone. And his being cross might cause him to come home sooner than expected, spoiling everything. 

 

With a deep, existential groan, Eve clicked the green button on her screen and brought the phone to her ear.

 

“Hi, hon, how’s it going?” 

 

She glanced over to see Oksana shooting her a pointed look. Eve mouthed “ _ Niko _ ” with a roll of her eyes, and Oksana mimicked the annoyed gesture, leaning against the bar with a hand on her hip, watching Eve closely to see how the call would unfold. 

 

“ _ You know _ ,” he began, in a tone that told Eve that she had already somehow screwed up in his eyes. “ _ I was feeling bad about last night, so I left the Castor’s early so I could grab some soup and take care of my sick wife. You’d understand my surprise, then, when I came home to find that she’s not here. _ ” 

 

Eve thought she might throw up. She hadn’t even had a chance to start her imminent affair, and he had already potentially found her out.

 

“Honey, I…”

 

“ _ Don’t. You can explain yourself when you get home. Now. _ ” 

 

Eve’s eyes widened, angered at his stern tone. 

 

“Who do you think you’re talking to, ordering me home like that? Huh?”

 

The line disconnected. He had hung up on her. 

 

Eve tossed her phone angrily onto the bar counter, not caring if she damaged it in the effort. 

 

“Whaaat,” Oksana said in a drawn out whine, already guessing that her plans had been dashed away from her. 

 

“He knows I’m not home. Mother fucker. Mother.  _ Fucker _ ! How dare he demand I stay home while he enjoys himself like I’m some sad little housewife? I can do whatever the fuck I want! He certainly does! Goddammit, I…”

 

“Hey, hey,” Oksana interrupted in a soothing voice, placing a reassuring palm against Eve’s cheek. “Listen. I don’t want you to leave right now.  _ Trust _ me. But the whole point of this is that neither he nor Anna suspect anything, right? So you need to go home, talk him down from his little hissy fit, and mend whatever you can between the two of you. And only then can we pick up where we left off...some other time.”

 

Eve let out a shaky sigh. 

 

“Okay. You’re right. God, I just...it’s not fair.” 

 

“I know.” 

 

“Fucking hell,” Eve groaned, running frustrated hands through her hair. “Alright.  _ Ugh _ . I’ll go. But...can I ask you one thing first?” 

 

“Anything.” 

 

“Did you get a hotel room because you knew all along tonight would end up with me in it?” 

 

Oksana smirked, her hand dropping from Eve’s cheek and finding her left hand, giving it a squeeze.

 

“Well, I  _ hoped _ it would. And if I was right, hmm, the things I had planned for you…”

 

Eve’s mouth went dry.

 

“But to be honest I felt like having a night away from Anna. So I would have had the room regardless.”

 

“You already needed a night away? But you just got back from Russia.”

 

“Eve,” Oksana sighed wistfully. “How could I want to spend any more time with her after having met someone like you?” 

 

Eve licked her lips, wishing she could somehow find a loophole in the recent unfoldings of her evening that would allow her to stay here with Oksana. 

 

But she knew she couldn’t. Not right now. So instead, she made a compromise with herself. 

 

She reached out, grabbed Oksana’s shirt in her fist, and pulled her in, kissing her hastily. 

 

God, she was so fucked.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, my name is Tess and I have a bad fic habit of interrupting Villaneve right before they fuck. I apologize for nothing.
> 
> Except the one thing I'm gonna apologize for and that's for being shit at replying to comments in a timely manner. Just know that even if I don't respond right away, I see all your comments, I pull them off the screen, and put them in a warm lil box in my otherwise cold, cold heart. Bc i cherish the fuck out of them, and all of you for reading and being awesome and supportive ppl. 
> 
> Love you guys so much for reading and chatting with me about these beautiful psychos. I'm on tumblr @ schatzietess if yall ever wanna all caps some shit at me about K.E.
> 
> Have a good week!   
> -Tess


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